Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Week 1: 1.30 am Sunday Morning

Crowley felt his arm twist and he was spun around and pressed firmly against a wall. He mumbled incoherently and tried to release himself but was held in place. A calm steady voice that was clearly used to being obeyed said "Don't. Settle down. You do not want to strike a police officer. Calm down."

A what? Oh shit... his drunk brain pulled every lever it could find in an attempt to sober up and try to recall the last few minutes with more clarity than was currently available.

"Ngk?"

"Ummhumm. Indeed. Are you going to behave if I let you go?"

He tried again. "Yeah. Sorry."

Fuck! He thought at himself. Don't bloody apologise, that's admitting wrongdoing you bloody fool. The pressure on his arm and back released. He shrugged and turned around slowly preparing to launch into a diatribe about his rights to not be pushed against walls unwillingly. But his eyes fell on the most beautiful, angelic human he had ever seen. In a police uniform, which he had to admit only added to the overall appeal.

"Emm..." he said instead of the planned diatribe, slightly horrified at the almost immediate interest certain parts of him took in the man standing in front of him. He didn’t think he’d drank enough to be this inarticulate and horny at the same time. Stern and disapproving eyes regarded him intensely.

"Do you have identification?"

Fuck! Yes lots of it and I really need to not get arrested, thought Crowley in a bit of a panic. Why had he not just left the bar when things started to kick off?  How was he still this stupid?

He smiled and rallied himself. Words. He could do words. He was, in fact, excellent at words.  "Of course officer," he said smoothly, relieved that his brain appeared willing to cooperate now and he didn’t appear to be slurring as he spoke. He pulled out his wallet slowly so as not to perturb the very solid looking police officer. He was quite sure he would be on his back before he could blink if he did anything this man didn’t like. His thoughts drifted for a moment to how that exact situation might not be terribly unpleasant. He handed over his driving licence with slightly shaking hands and hoped it would be enough. He did not want to have to show work identification – of any variety.  The beautiful police man looked at it and then regarded him closely, comparing the photograph to the live version. “You've aged since this was taken.”

Bitch, thought Crowley before he said. “It’s in date!” feeling offended. He thought he was aging fairly well. Even if the licence was close to the decade when he would need to renew it. He was clinging to the hope that he’d be leaving the US before then but that seemed increasingly unlikely.

“Just about,” replied the officer with the barest hint of amusement. He returned the licence and took out a notebook.

Fuck!

"Look officer, come on, it was a bit of a bar fight nothing more. I was only defending myself! I was trying to leave! Is this really necessary?" He got no response.

“Please? Come on – It’s my first night in town and if I get arrested I could be in a lot of trouble in a job I haven’t even started yet!” The man pursed his lips slightly.

“And you took a swing at me because…?”

Crowley licked his lips nervously, watching the pen poised about the notebook. A citation and a fine would be bad but being arrested would be a fucking disaster. He needed this to go any other direction. “I thought you were one of the assholes from the bar. I lashed out without thinking.” His eyes didn’t leave the pen, which still hovered above the paper, a tiny sword of Damocles that could utterly doom him. He glanced up, licking his lips nervously again, hoping to see any sympathy from the officer. What he saw was better than sympathy.

For the barest moment he thought the man's eyes drifted to his lips. Hello! Maybe he could get out of this another way. And he certainly wouldn't mind if that was an available option. Beautiful, strong, uniform – no he wouldn’t mind at all. He shifted slightly, no longer trying to hide his own increasingly obvious interest, leaned back against the wall and smiled his most winning,  seductive smile. If this went wrong he was making everything so much worse but if not... the police officer went a bright red and fumbled his notebook. Excellent. 

"You’re getting cited and fined, not arrested. You need to learn that you can’t roll up somewhere new and get into trouble. You’re too old to be in bar fights." The man now refused to make eye contact. Crowley’s lips twisted in a vicious delight as he decided to push his luck. A fine wasn’t the end of the world. That he could deal with himself without involving management, but why settle for a fine that he couldn’t expense when he might have a much more entertaining option?

"Oh but I never learn, officer. You wouldn't believe how long and hard it takes for me to come to any conclusion." The officer dropped his pen. Amazing! Crowley smirked as the police man bent down and picked up the pen. The officer glared up at him and Crowley very gently bit his lower lip. The other man froze and gaped slightly.

"I think," he purred, "that I’d benefit greatly from some more personal attention. I need someone with a firm grasp on things to make me behave." Not his best line but it was doing the job.

"I..." a soft cough. ”I am not a bloody parole officer. I don't do one-on-one appointments.” He stood back up and the pen once again tried and failed to make contact with the notebook.

Crowley leant forward slightly and wrinkled his nose suggestively. "Couldn't you make an exception? For me?" He starred into the intense blue eyes that were slowly being consumed by increasingly dilated pupils and pushed once more. "I'm at the Apex. You have my name. Why don't you come find me when your shift is over and I’ll make it worth forgetting to cite me?” He leaned in closer when this wasn't met with immediate rejection and whispered softly into the officer’s ear. "I'll abso-fucking-lutley make it worth your while.”

"I..."

Crowley smiled again. This town didn't have an honest cop in it and clearly he'd hit on the right bribe for this one. He arched an eyebrow.

"Twenty minutes." Bingo. He smiled and pushed off the wall. "Ask for me at the desk. I'll be waiting and I don't particularly like to be kept waiting so don't take longer than 20 minutes." He spoke in a sharper clipped tone and saw the impact of the shift in dynamic hit the officer right in the spine. Perfect. He swanned past and walked away without looking back. He could feel the other man's eyes on him as he left. The night was definitely salvageable. And no fine! Perfect.

***

Aziraphale couldn't believe what he had just done. His heart was racing.  How could he even considered this? It was reprehensible! But he was exhausted and sick to death of trying to do the right thing in a town that only punished him for not being as crooked as the rest. Right on que to twist the knife, Corporal Muriel Heavenbee arrived.

"Hi Detective. Did you cite that guy? I got the other two." Not the only honest cop, one of very few and this one in particular looked up to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling wretched.

"You know I'm not a detective at the moment Muriel.”

"Yes you are sir. They can put you back in uniform but they can't change who you are."

He sighted. Apparently they can, he thought bitterly as his mind drifted back to the gorgeous redhead with whom he'd just made an appalling arrangement. Of course he didn't have to go anywhere near the Apex, but god he wanted to. Was it that bad?  Would it really matter? Everyone else did worse. And it had been the other man's offer, not his request. That mattered, didn't it? And the man seemed genuine in the offer. It’s not like a minor citation was so bad; he couldn't be so desperate to avoid it, surely. And he could certainly afford it, if he was staying at the Apex. And Aziraphale thought he had seen the evidence of real interest... even before he'd stopped hiding it. Or was he just deluding himself? Men like Crowley didn’t need to settle for middle-aged beat cops. He sighed again. "I let him go with a warning."

"Oh?"

"No one’s perfect. It’s his first night in town. He probably didn’t realise the bar was a trouble spot and, honestly, it’s my last shift in uniform. I didn't want the paperwork."

She looked slightly disappointed in him. It hurt. The fact that he was compounding disappointing her with lying to her made it worse. Maybe he would just go and lose himself in some almost anonymous sex with a man he’d never see again. Who cared? It certainly couldn’t make his current situation worse.

They walked back to the station in companionable silence until Muriel said, “I think that was nice of you. If he’s new, he couldn’t have known how bad the Swamp is on a Saturday night.” He smiled at her and nodded. He wished she would leave. Go to a better town that wasn’t corrupt from the ground up. But she was born here and had no interest in living somewhere else. She also had a stubborn innocence that assumed things could get better. She’ll learn, he thought sadly. If she lives long enough.

He left her in the bullpen where she was conscientiously doing the required paperwork. “Good night Muriel,” he said as he turned to the locker room. He was going to go home. He wasn’t going anywhere near the hotel. It was a joke anyway, something to get out of a ticket. Entirely understandable. A gorgeous man like Crowley was probably used to getting his own way and clearly well-practised at flirting to achieve that end. It was ridiculous to think he’d been serious.

He wasn’t paying attention when he entered the locker room and put his gun away safely. He was lost in his own thoughts but the words of two of the other detectives floated across from the row of lockers behind his.

“No, but he had the cash, so I took it and left. He won’t fuck around again. He pays – one way or the other.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes and rested his head on the side of the locker. Nothing ever changed here. The police were just another gang and no one gave a damn.

“Oh, careful Hastor, the Pope’s listening. He’ll make you do penance for being a little sinner,” Ligur cackled. “How’s the uniform Az? Fits a bit better now after a month on the street at least.”

“Piss off, Ligur. I don’t care about the petty protection rackets you two run.” He did though. It disgusted him. And he knew the Mayor took a cut, which was worse.

Ligur came around the corner and stood too close to him, pushing the door of the locker closed. He had to move quickly to avoid having his hand caught in the door. He knew Hastor would be around the other side in moments. The rasping drawl near his left ear proved him correct almost immediately. He really did not need this tonight. “Oh your holiness… I’m sooo sorry. How many Hail Mary’s is it tonight?”

Aziraphale weighted his options. There was no one else here, not that that really meant anything. Quite a few of his colleagues would just leave them to it and not interfere. He didn’t want a hiding but he wasn’t sure he could talk his way out of it either. Maybe it was that he was tired, maybe the irritation of a long night or maybe it was how much Crowley had disturbed him but entirely out of character, he rammed his elbow into Hastor’s stomach and punched Ligur in the throat hard enough to cause him to slip to the floor gasping.

“Just one tonight, gentlemen. One each,” he said calmly. Instead of changing, he grabbed his long coat and bag and slammed the locker shut. “Stay the fuck away from me you two scumbags.” He stormed out of the locker room, hoping this wouldn’t lead to too much trouble later on.

He was furious, tired and just generally pissed off. Those two ran protection rackets all over the city and they weren’t even close to the worst of what was going on. He had been pushed down to the beat for accusing the chief of police and mayor of being involved in corruption without evidence. He had evidence – or he had had evidence until it disappeared. He was probably lucky he hadn’t had a traffic accident yet. The Mayor liked them under the right circumstances. Another thing he couldn't prove. It was all hopeless. This place was rotten to the core.

He had been walking without thinking and noticed that he was a block away from the Apex. He looked at his watch. It was only 25 minutes since his encounter with Crowley. He couldn’t… it was so wrong… but everything was already wrong and nothing he did mattered.

He stood dithering for a few moments and then decided that he might as well end the night being laughed at by a beautiful stranger and having it explained to him that it had been a line to get out of a citation.

A few minutes later he walked into the fabulous entrance of the Apex. He hadn't been here in several years, not since his divorce. It was similar to how he remembered it but the furnishings had all changed. The atrium was brightly lit, even at 2 am and the entire reception area oozed money. The plush leather furnishings rested on expensive rugs with beautiful North African patterns. Any one of the carpets was probably worth more than his car. In so many ways, he did not belong here. He walked towards the reception, passing the expensive leather arm chairs and sofas. A large bookshelf lined one wall and, another time, he would have loved to look at what it held. The reception desk was mahogany and had gold trimmings around it. He smiled slightly at the receptionist, who thankfully he did not recognise, and said, “Good evening, I’m looking for a Mr Crowley.”

She looked up at him with careful professionalism. He expected her to say that she’d never heard of a Mr Crowley but instead she nodded. “Ah yes, sir. He mentioned that you might be along. He has asked me to give you this.” She passed a key card across the desk to him. “He’s in the penthouse, top floor. You need to tap the card before you hit the button on the elevator and then it’ll take you straight up. Is that OK?”

Aziraphale’s throat was dry. “The penthouse?”

“Yes sir.”

Aziraphale stood looking at the woman and the key card, bemused by the entire situation. What the Hell was someone who could afford the penthouse in the Apex doing in a bar fight in the Swamp? The woman looked at him but said nothing. He cleared his throat and took the key card. “Thank you,” he croaked out and walked towards the elevator.

“Not that one sir,” she called after him. “The private one on the left.” Aziraphale closed his eyes. He should not be here. He waved his thanks and moved to the other elevator that had “private” above it in a bronze plaque.

The elevator was as beautiful as everything else in the hotel. The muffed glass was broken halfway down by soft leather panelling and the floor was covered in a deep red carpet. This felt like a dream. Surely this wasn’t that wrong? Crowley would probably laugh and send him away.

The elevator binged and the door opened into a short corridor. There were two doors. He looked at the card again and saw number two emblazoned on it.  He moved towards the door with “2” on it and shook his head as he noticed the doorbell. This place was ridiculous. He hesitated again and just as he decided that he couldn’t actually go through with this, the door opened and Crowley stood there looking incredible. He had changed. He was wearing looser black trousers and what looked like a silk shirt that was also black and open half way down his smooth chest. His hair was loose now and hung just above his shoulders, framing his beautiful face is dark red waves. Aziraphale blinked and swallowed, wondering if he had fully lost the ability to speak.

“There you are! I thought I heard the lift. You’re late. I’m sure I said I don’t like to wait.” Crowley smiled at him and Aziraphale felt his spine turn to dust. “I’m not shagging you in the hall, come in,” Crowley laughed and gestured into the room.

Aziraphale stepped over the threshold and gasped. It wasn’t a room. It was a large apartment. It was all black and white, sharp angles and ultra-modern furnishings. It was entirely at odds with the hotel below.

“Umm… yeah, it’s a bit over the top but I’ll be honest and say that I like it. Come into the lounge and check out the view. It’s spectacular. Well I think so anyway.”

Aziraphale trailed after Crowley looking in awe at the penthouse apartment. He'd never been up to this level in the hotel before. It was incredible. There appeared to be at least two bedrooms and he saw a kitchen to the left of the door into the lounge as he went in. The lounge was softly lit by several lamps and there was a lovely soft jazz playing in the background. He looked around in confusion. There was a beautiful black leather sofa and a large flat screen TV had a fake fireplace dancing merrily giving the illusion of a crackling fire in the room. His mouth was hanging slightly open. Everything was gorgeous and… well… romantic. He didn’t understand what was happening.

Crowley gestured to him to come to the full length windows that stretched almost the entire width of the room. He stood beside the redhead and looked out over the city. From here, it did indeed look beautiful. They were above most other buildings in the downtown area and could even see the river from here. The lights in the other buildings and the cars and streetlamps far below twinkled like tiny stars. He let a breath out. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” replied Crowley.

***

Crowley watched the gorgeous police officer, whose name he still had not been given, and agreed that the view was indeed beautiful, though he was not looking out the window. He had worried that the man would not come but now that he was here he was even more gorgeous than he had been in the street. Then again, Crowley was now actually sober so he was probably seeing him better. He looked nervous, which he hadn’t expected. Surely, he did this sort of thing regularly? This can’t be the first time he’d swapped a favour for a forgotten ticket. That was how things were here – well, usually it was money, but whatever worked.

The angelic man turned to look at him and flushed slightly. Bloody hell maybe it was a first…

“Can I get you a drink? I promise not to over-indulge and become annoying again,” he smiled warmly.

“Yes, no. I… I shouldn’t be here. I should go. I’m sorry.” The blond man turned to leave. Crowley looked at him confused and not at all happy about this turn of events.

“Why? I thought you liked the idea. I mean, of course you don’t have to but…”

“I… I’m terribly sorry. It’s been a very trying time and I should never have agreed to this. It’s dreadful. I would never… I have never… not before…” He stumbled himself into silence and ran his right hand through his curly blond hair, looking confused and upset.

“What’s wrong Angel? I’m not interested if you’re not, but so we’re clear, if you are, I’m very, very interested. I wasn’t just flirting to get out of a ticket, if that’s what you think. I mean, I was, but I wanted to… you know… regardless. Well probably not if you arrested me but…” he stumbled himself into silence, cursing his rambling… very attractive.

“You can’t possibly be interested in a middle aged beat cop. Look at you – look at where we are! This… Look I should go. I’m so very sorry about tonight. It’s really not what I’m normally like. I don’t do this sort of thing.”

“Can’t we just say that we met at a bar?”

“What?”

“I think you’d quite like to stay and if all that’s bothering you is how this got started then forget it – we met outside a bar. I was charming and picked you up and brought you back to my lovely expensive hotel room. Wined and dined you, and we had a lovely evening. Is that so difficult?” Crowley moved to the coffee table and poured red wine into two glasses. He approached the other man carefully, as if a sudden movement would spook him and, standing a full arm’s span away, held out one of the glasses.

“Look around you Angel. I asked you here because I fancy you. I can afford the citation; couldn’t afford the arrest but you didn’t seem to be going down that line anyway so why would I ask you here if I didn’t at least have some genuine interest. I don’t have too much difficulty getting company but it’s yours I want tonight.”

“Why are you calling me Angel?”

“Because Officer seems a bit formal while I’m trying to seduce you and you haven’t actually told me your name gorgeous. And you’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever seen. You don’t look entirely real.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Crowley laughed and moved forward slightly, still holding out the wine glass. The other man took a deep breath, closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

“I go by Az.” He took the wine. Crowley smiled broadly and clinked their glasses. “It’s very nice to meet you Az. I’m Crowley. I don’t use my first name.” Something about the man’s name rang a bell in Crowley’s mind but he ignored it. He wasn’t here for beat cops, so it couldn’t be that important. He moved closer and caught the intoxicating smell of Az properly. Oh god, he thought. He had to have him. Just tonight, then it was down to business here. But oh… every part of him tingled in anticipation.

“Shall we sit? Drink some wine? Get to know each other a bit?” He reached out and took the bag out of Az’s left hand. He frowned slightly. “Are you moving in? What the Hell is in here?” He popped the bag at the side of the sofa and sat down, hoping the surprisingly skittish cop would join him. Az smiled for the first time – it was like watching his first sunrise and it was only a half-smile. Crowley knew he needed to be careful. This isa one off. Just some fun. Don’t get attached.

“No, don’t worry. Just had a few things to bring home with me after work including a somewhat bulky laptop. And I didn’t get a chance to change before I came here.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow as Az took off his coat, revealing his uniform. He broke into a broad grin. “Do you have your handcuffs?”

Az smiled slightly. “I do. But I do not intend to use them.”

“Oh, don’t tease me.”

He was met with a firm raised eyebrow. God that's attractive. The nerves reducing and the more authoritative police officer persona returning was intoxicating. Az moved towards him and sat on the sofa, close but not touching. Close enough to indicate potential interest but not that he was going to jump Crowley without warning. A pity but he enjoyed the seduction part too.

Crowley sat back into the sofa and looked Az up and down. “I don’t really have a thing for uniforms but on you it’s quite fabulous.”

Az took a sip of the wine and made a noise that had Crowley shifting on the sofa so as not to reveal quite how affecting he found it. In his defence, people didn’t make noises like that outside of the bedroom in his experience. “Like it?”

Az sat back in the sofa, appearing to relax properly and clearly unaware of the impact of his vocal appreciation of the wine. “Oh my god! What is this? It’s beautiful.”

“Oh good. I’m glad you like it. It’s a 2010 Chimere Chateauneuf-du-Pap. Lovely wine for special occasions. The 1945 is even better, but as it has another zero on the price tag, you’d have to marry me for that one.”

Az spluttered into the glass and looked at him alarmed. Crowley laughed and clinked their glasses. “Enjoy it, Angel.” Az took another appreciative sip.

“Is it really your first night here?”

“Humm… yes, this time. I’ve been here before but not for long. I should have known better than to go to the Swamp and… I’m sorry I nearly hit you, really. I thought it was the two arseholes from the bar back for a second round.”

“It’s ok. You had no chance of hitting me, I’m afraid. You were very slow and quite drunk. I’m surprised you’re so sober now.” Crowley smiled slightly into his glass. He hadn’t been quite as drunk as he appeared but he was glad Az thought he’d been pissed.

“Ha. Well I don’t intend staying entirely sober for long and you’d be amazed at how fast the effects of alcohol wear off when you’re held against a wall and worried you’re going to lose your job before you even start.”

“Once you settled down, you were never getting more than a fine.”

“Why don’t we agree to forget about that bit? How do you like it here? You don’t sound local.”

“I’m not but I’ve been here for a very long time. Long story but I’m originally from London. I moved here over 15 years ago. I was young and stupid and thought I was in love. Anyway, I joined the police and stayed even after the relationship broke up. Probably a mistake but too late to do anything about that now. And I think about leaving every damn day.”

Oof, thought Crowley. That sounds like a lot of regret. He watched the angelic man drink again and close his eyes at the taste of the wine. Oh god it was good to look at him. He shifted slightly on the sofa, kicking his shoes off as an excuse to move slightly closer and curling his legs up beneath him. He stretched to the table for the wine bottle and topped up both their glasses.

“What about you? You sound English too.”

“I am. Left about ten years ago. Now I go here and there and help out with solving problems for people with lots of money and no morals. But I’m boring. I’d rather learn about you.”

“I’m an almost honest cop in a corrupt town. There’s not much to say.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. Until tonight I’d have just said honest. But apparently everyone can be a little corrupted for the right price.”

Crowley was about to ask for more details when Az moved towards him. His eyes widened in shock as the gentle press of lips scattered his thoughts. Keeping the contact, he placed his glass on the table and reached for Az’s to do the same. He leaned into the kiss and gently pressed his tongue to Az’s lips. The kiss deepened and quickly became passionate. The rest was a blur to Crowley. Lips on his neck, hands in his hair, a gentle press of a solid and strong body pushing him back on the sofa. Oh it was bliss!

***

The next morning, Crowley woke irritatingly alone. He rolled over and found the bed unpleasantly empty. Had Az just left? He pushed himself up and out of the bed and then out of the bedroom.

“Oh my! Good morning.” Oh right, he was naked. But they’d spent the night wrapped around each other, surely the Angel wasn’t that bashful. Apparently he was though.

“Ah good, you’re still here.”

“Yes sorry, I was just leaving.” Az, who was not naked but also not in yesterday’s clothes, averted his gaze from the entirely naked Crowley. He looked at him confused but went back to the bedroom and put on one of the hotel robes.

“You need to leave? You could stay for a bit, if you like.”

Az looked at him and smiled softy. “Last night was lovely, truly, but I think it’s best if I go.”

It was, it definitely was and Crowley knew that even if Az didn’t know why. It would not do him any favours to be involved with Crowley and it was a one-time thing. It had to be. As was so often the case, his mouth and brain were at odds with each other and the mouth won. “Stay. Let me buy you breakfast. They do spectacular crepes here.”

Az shook his head in amusement. “I don’t understand how you know exactly how to tempt me. You are an absolute fiend. But I think it’s best if I go. I’m sorry. I’m … it’s better for you to not get too involved with me.”

And why would that be? Crowley wondered. He walked towards Az and ran his hand down the front of the soft, light tan sweater he had put on this morning. “The colour suits you. You look gorgeous. Which I suspect is just how you usually look.” He lent in and kissed him softly on the cheek. “I’d like to see you again but I’ll be busy with work from tomorrow and I know you work nights. If we could work something out, would you see me again while I’m here?”

Az looked at him with clear longing in his eyes but shook his head. “It’s really not a good idea. I… well… I have a lot of people upset with me at the moment.”

Crowley nodded. It was better for Az not to be involved with him too. He couldn’t help but wonder what problems the cop had that were severe enough to warrant a warning. Perhaps he was just being polite and had only wanted the one night. That was the obvious reason. “Well, if we bump into each other again, can I say hello?”

What are you doing idiot! Let this go! Stop being weird!

Az smiled. “As long as it’s not outside the Swamp because of a bar fight, sure.” And with that he picked up his bag and left. Crowley looked after him feeling oddly bereft. This was ridiculous. It was a one-night stand at least partially in payment for avoiding unpleasant paperwork that could have caused him problems. As angelic as Az appeared, he’d still accepted the bribe, he’d still come here, still slept with Crowley. There were no honest cops in Sanctuary. He didn’t need to feel too bad about it and he really needed to get some perspective. It had been great and it was done. Move on and do what you’re here to do, he thought irritably to himself. He wanted this job wrapped up quickly and then he’d be gone. Definitely gone from Sanctuary and if he was lucky, gone from the US entirely.

Chapter Text

Week 1: 8 am Monday

The mayor stood looking out the window down over his domain. The recent unpleasantness had gotten out of hand and needed to be sorted. Hopefully, it would be soon. He needed the little things tidied away so that they didn’t get in the way of bigger plans. He thought again about just ridding himself of his Aziraphale problem but the thought of crushing him was more appealing. A car accident could always be arranged later.

“Is the new guy here?” he asked Jim, his chief aid.

“Yes,” he replied. “He's been here since 7.30, very bloody keen.”

“Does he understand his job?”

“Think so, flash bastard but he comes highly recommended. We’ve checked him out as much as possible, under the circumstances.”

“Did we find anything on him?”

Jim looked down at his notes and shook his head.  “Nothing useful. A few speeding tickets, quite a lot of parking tickets and one caution years ago for a fight. That was in New York.”

“Humm. Pity. I prefer to have some leverage.” This was annoying Gabriel. Everyone had something and the lawyer was too clean. Particularly given who had recommended him. And recommended was putting it mildly. The last conversation with his partner – he refused to acknowledge that the other man was very much in charge of what was happening – had made it clear that this particular lawyer was the only one who would be trusted to sort out the mess in Sanctuary. He didn’t like being told what to do in his own city. But the rewards for the deal were enough for him to bite his tongue for now.

“Yeah but when you meet him you'll see. No way he's clean. He's just good at hiding it. And from his… references… he’s exactly who we need here.”

“Yeah well he better be good if we're paying for the fucking Apex.” Jim regarded him blankly. The assistant knew that Gabriel owned the Apex, even if it was well hidden.

“How long is he here?”

“Initial contract is six weeks. He thinks he'll have it sorted by then.”

“Have we considered that we may need to… tidy him away… afterwards?”

“Of course sir, but I think it would be better not to do that. He has too many contacts who might be upset if anything happened to him. He’s highly sought after. And it’s been made clear that some of his previous clients want the option of hiring him again.”

Gabriel frowned but then nodded. “Ok. Well we’ll see how things go this morning. They’re to be here for 9 am so make sure we have a nice audience.”

“Of course,” Jim smiled and left to make preparations.

***

Aziraphale, glad to at least be out of uniform, sat at his desk waiting for the Captain. They needed to be over at the mayoral offices for 9 am. He felt sick. He considered again that he could just resign and leave. But he couldn’t afford to do that. His unwillingness to take a divorce settlement had left him more trapped that he had ever imagined. The cost of what had turned out to be an entirely useless divorce lawyer had cleaned him out.  He’d thought he’d been freeing himself but his stubbornness had made sure he had to stay here. And then he just couldn’t leave things alone – and for what? The whole bloody lot of them were corrupt and the only one who got any punishment was him. He sighed. He knew he wouldn’t leave this alone. He was right. And he would bloody prove it eventually.

The door to the Captain’s office banged open and she walked out looking unhappy.

“Come on Az, time to go and please, please just apologise. That way you get to keep your job. But em..,” she sighed and looked at him with worried eyes.

“What now?”

“There’s been an additional demand. You’re on desk duty for the next three months. And there are going to be more people there than I was initially told.”

Aziraphale just nodded and said nothing. There was no fighting any of this. He’d moved too fast and this was where he’d landed himself.

Captain Uriel looked at him with concern. “You have got to let this go, you understand? It’s my damn head on the block too. I can’t defend you any more if you keep pushing this.”

“I understand.” She pursed her lips and gestured towards the elevator. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

They arrived at the tall glass building that contained the mayor’s offices and other local government departments just before nine. It was one of the taller and more modern buildings in the city. Aziraphale followed Uriel into the foyer and they were made to wait for over 15 minutes. Aziraphale felt his temper rising, which wouldn’t help matters. This was all a carefully designed humiliation.

The young woman on the desk eventually gestured for them to go up. “You’re in the main boardroom. They’re ready now.”

Uriel uttered a brief thanks and they walked into the elevator. “Az, please, please just suck this up and we can move on, ok?” He nodded. He knew he’d put her in an awkward position. He hadn’t told her what he’d been looking into and she had, surprisingly, defended him. Not a lot, but more than he had expected.

He took a deep breath outside the boardroom and then they entered. It was packed. The Mayor was clearly determined to make an example of him. He stood beside Uriel quietly waiting for the circus to begin but then his eyes drifted to a man right at the back of the room, bending over paperwork and with his back to everyone else. Aziraphale’s eyes widened slightly and he rushed to contain his horrified reaction. His slim build and neatly tied red hair were impossible to mistake. Oh holy fucking shit! I’m absolutely fucked, he thought frantically. Was he about to be declared a disgrace to the force and fired for accepting sex in exchange for not citing Crowley? Of course it had been a set-up. He was an absolute fucking fool. He felt his face go crimson and his heart raced so fast he was slightly worried he might pass out.

“Hello, honey,” said Gabriel smoothly.

“That’s not appropriate, Mayor. Please can we keep this professional,” snapped Uriel.

Anger flashed across Gabriel’s face but was gone as fast as it had arrived. “Of course, my apologies Captain Uriel. You and Detective Fell and both welcome. And I’m very glad to hear that Aziraphale has come to his senses.”

There was a strangled cough from the back of the room and Crowley straightened and turned around. His eyes fell on Aziraphale immediately but he only regarded him with cool neutrality. Aziraphale glared at him. It was unfair of him to be so striking, so beautiful and such a deceitful bastard all in one. Crowley moved to stand slightly behind Gabriel, He wore a perfectly tailored and clearly expensive dark navy suit with a dark blue silk shirt and bright red tie. It all should have clashed but on Crowley it looked incredible. Crowley looked at him like he’d never seen him before, like he hadn’t been wrapped around him gasping in pleasure a little over 24 hours ago. Aziraphale felt beyond humiliated.

“As you are all aware,” Gabriel addressed the room that Aziraphale had forgotten held anyone other than him and Crowley, “Detective Fell has made accusations of the most dreadful sort against myself, the Chief of Police and other members of both the police force and my administration. He has produced no evidence to support these accusations. You are all also aware of the personal connection between myself and Detective Fell, which makes this particularly painful for me. This has been such an upsetting betrayal on such a personal level but of course, I understand that he is still hurt by our parting. While others have suggested that he should be dismissed immediately, I am grateful for the advice of my new lawyer, Mr Anthony Crowley, and the support of Chief of Police Beatrice Kane, and we have come to this alternative.“

Aziraphale looked around the room in increasing horror as he realised who was here. Beez, Chief of Police who he was absolutely certain was working with Gabriel, a range of high level local politicians who all hated him and from long before this latest issue, and several high ranking members of the police force and oh god… Hastor and Ligur. Of course. Two of Gabriel’s favourite lackeys. He glanced at Uriel and saw her stormy expression growing darker. She didn’t like this. But there was nothing either of them could do about it. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Crowley to describe what had happened on Saturday night. But the lawyer just stood there, expressionless and gazing at the room impartially. Maybe it was worse than getting fired – maybe this was going to be held over him indefinitely.

He tuned back in to Gabriel’s droning speech.

“So instead, Detective Fell was sent back to the streets for a month to consider his position and today he is here to apologise and admit that he was wrong. A further punishment of reduced pay and three months desk duty will be applied and then, hopefully, we can all go on as usual.” He smiled brightly around the room and then pinned Aziraphale with his self-righteous steel grey eyes. “Over to you, Detective.”

Aziraphale considered telling Gabriel to get fucked and storming out. But Uriel would probably be fired then too and he really didn’t know what he would do if he lost his job. He needed a plan first. He glared at Gabriel and Crowley and then through gritted teeth said, “Thank you Mayor Archer. I was wrong and I apologise to you, the Chief and the others whom I incorrectly implicated in wrongdoing. I won’t make such a dreadful mistake again.” Uriel released a breath beside him.

Of course this wasn’t going to be enough. “You owe two of your immediate colleagues a personal apology too,” said Gabriel viciously, clearly enjoying himself. He gestured to Hastor and Ligur.

Aziraphale’s lips twitched in fury.

“Now, Aziraphale,” commanded Gabriel.

“I am sorry that I suggested either of you were involved in anything approaching unlawful activity,” said Aziraphale as his stomach churned.

“And for Saturday night?” asked Hastor.

Aziraphale felt faint until he remembered the altercation in the locker room. “And yes, I most deeply regret Saturday night,” he said but he glared at Crowley instead of Hastor. “I apologise for striking you and Ligur.” There were a few theatrical gasps around the room. Aziraphale saw Uriel squeeze her eyes shut at this unexpected new information.

“Oh dear,” said Gabriel happily. “Oh dear, Aziraphale, I am shocked that you have fallen so far. Striking fellow officers? Oh what are we to do with you?”

Crowley eyed Aziraphale and then spoke for the first time. “This is new information. Detective Hastor, Detective Ligur do either of you wish to prefer charges against Detective Fell for assault, as it appears you would be well within your rights to do?”

Hastor grinned evilly at Aziraphale. “No, Mr Crowley. He was upset about something and over-reacted. We were winding him up and it got a bit out of hand.”

Crowley’s cool gaze turned to Ligur and he raised an eyebrow.

“No, we’re sure he’ll make it up to us somehow.”

“Then that is that,” said Crowley.

“Oh not quite,” came the rasping tones of the short woman standing off to the side. “As Chief, I’m not willing to let this go. Uriel, you need to get your people in line or you won’t remain a Captain long. I want you to organised dignity and respect at work training for every single member of staff in your precinct and I want it done immediately. And you,” she pointed at Aziraphale, “are suspended for two weeks. You will have to complete a further week of training before you return to work so that we can be sure you are not representing a threat to your colleagues.” She slunk back into the shadows with a smirk on her face and said no more.

“Oh well, that could be worse, right Aziraphale?” Gabriel was practically vibrating with delight.

Aziraphale remained silent but this was probably the worst aspect of the punishments. Absolutely no one would be talking to him when he did get back to work now if they were all going to be punished for his actions and with one of these horrendous training courses. God, even Muriel would be mad at him.

“What do you say, Aziraphale?” said Gabriel coolly.

Aziraphale felt shattered by the entire situation. “Thank you, Mayor Archer. Thank you Chief Kane.”

“Good, you can go and I guess go home since you’re suspended. Uriel, make sure you get his badge and gun surrendered properly.”

Yes of course, thought Aziraphale bitterly, surrendered properly means making me go back to the precinct and be paraded around before I can actually leave. And everyone would know about the outcome long before he got there. He could see Ligur surreptitiously texting on his phone behind Hastor. Wonderful.

He left with Uriel, who looked at him sadly. “Sorry Az, but it could have been worse.”

Oh you have no idea how much worse it could have been, he thought to himself. He was such an utter fool.

***

Crowley was still trying to understand exactly what had happened when he was finally left with only Gabriel and his slightly creepy assistant Jim in the boardroom. There wasn’t really anything much wrong with Jim, other than the fact that he sort of looked like Gabriel and Crowley strongly suspected the Mayor was sleeping with the much younger man. Who looked like him. That was creepy.

Crowley was gathering the papers from the table at the back of the room. This was horrendous. The name hadn’t triggered any recognition with him on Saturday night. Az… but as soon as Gabriel had said his fully name the penny had dropped, painfully. This was a serious problem. Beautiful Az was who he was here to deal with, in part. And the public humiliation had been Crowley’s idea.

“Well that went very well, good suggestion. I’m very pleased.”

Crowley banged his hand on the table. “You should have bloody told me he was your fucking ex,” he thundered and spun around to look at Gabriel.

The stocky Mayor looked at him in shock. “Why? And don’t speak to me like that.”

“I’ll speak to you however the fuck I want. I’m here to help you with your wide variety of legal problems not to kiss your ass. You should have told me the man accusing you of everything from embezzlement, to racketeering, and even possibly fucking murder just might have some personal fucking vendetta against you.”

“Calm down, Anthony.”

“Crowley, you’ve been told that already.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and moved to a drinks cabinet. “Sorry,” he said placatingly, “Drink, Crowley?”

Crowley shook his head in irritation. “It’s a bit early for me and I need a clear head to deal with the absolute clusterfuck that you have created.”

Gabriel poured himself a small whiskey and leant back against the cabinet smiling. “Look, Aziraphale is a pain in the ass but he just needs to be controlled. I want him contained. I think what you orchestrated this morning will go a long way to achieving that.”

Crowley was furious. He was horrified at what he’d just done to Aziraphale – what a beautiful name! Why hadn’t he told him his name? He would have realised immediately who he was. He was furious with himself for missing the obvious abbreviation but he’d been so fucking captivated by the man he hadn’t been thinking clearly. And now, he’d hate him. Crowley wanted to rush after him and explain. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t but it was what he wanted to do.

“So what, is he actually honest? Here? In Sanctuary? And he was your boyfriend or something?”

Gabriel laughed. “He was my husband. For ten years.”

Crowley’s stomach summersaulted. Oh my god! This was what Aziraphale had fallen in love with? This horror of a human?! How?

“But you said he’s broke? How can he be broke if he divorced you? You’re bloody loaded.”

Gabriel took another drink and laughed richly. “I told you. He’s honest. And proud. He didn’t take a settlement. I couldn’t believe my luck. He could have had a couple of million but he just signed the papers and walked away. Ha. If he hadn’t he could have left. Fool.”

Crowley made a disbelieving face and said, “How did his lawyer allow that?”

“Because he really worked for me. Like most people in Sanctuary. He also massively over-charged him for his services. Aziraphale is broke!” The mayor chuckled into his glass.

Crowley felt sick. Poor Aziraphale. “So what happened?”

Gabriel shrugged. “He was ok with the affairs for the most part. I think he didn’t really enjoy sleeping together after the first few years - he's a bit on the frigid side - so he didn’t mind that I got that elsewhere but he got really pissed off at the bribes. Breaking marital vows is apparently something he could deal with but vows of office he objected to intensely. It’s a pity, honestly. A good looking cop on my arm was great for elections. He was a good political spouse when he wanted to be and fuck he could give a blow-job like a pro.”

Crowley felt his face redden. He certainly hadn't found Aziraphale in anyway disinterested on Saturday. He was also trying not to internally agree with Gabriel's last statement. Aziraphale had been the most spectacular sex he’d had in years. But the thought of him with Gabriel turned his stomach. And he’d cheated on him? Crowley couldn’t imagine noticing anyone else, never mind fucking someone else, if he was going home to Aziraphale.

“And frankly he was boring – always whining about shit that didn’t matter. He used to be so beautiful but then he let himself go. Ha! The month on the street has helped him shape up a bit. I was thinking of suggesting another month. He might be worth revisiting for a while if he dropped another stone. And he might be desperate enough to do it by then too. But anyway, I really couldn’t be bothered putting in the effort needed to coax him back into bed. That was bad enough when we were married.”

Crowley turned back to his papers to hide his anger and gathered them more aggressively than needed. He did not like this prick one bit. “You need to tell me relevant information, or it’s going to be hard for me to be effective,” he said, shoving his papers into his brief case. He pulled out a list of names and circled Aziraphale’s. “I need everything, and I mean everything, on the people on this list. Then I can start unravelling the mess you have yourself in.”

He turned around and found that he couldn’t move. Gabriel was standing horribly close to him. He was taller and quite a lot larger than Crowley. He glared up at him but the Mayor smiled back.

“I don’t know you. You don’t get everything.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “You have taken… references… I assume and you know what I am. That’s why you have hired me. I’m a fucking mob lawyer, Gabriel. I get assholes like you out of trouble. And I’m exceptional at it. I am literally worth every damn penny you pay me. But I can’t do my job if I don’t have all the information.”

“Don’t you need plausible deniability?”

“No. I just lie and I don’t leave a fucking paper trail.”

Gabriel smiled hawkishly at him. “Is that right? Well look we can start easy. You can have everything on Aziraphale and he’s one of the main problems. Though I do think that you have that sorted now. I wouldn’t have expected him to cave so completely but you were right – humiliation is more effective than threats for certain people. He looked shattered.” He grinned. “And there really isn’t anything on him. He is actually honest. I don’t think he has so much as a parking fine. He obviously does get in trouble in work but that’s for trying to do his job.” Crowley felt utterly awful. Had he actually been the first vaguely wrong thing the angel had done? Had he tempted him at his lowest ever point? God, he’d hurt him and he hadn’t even known he was doing it. Twice. Gabriel was talking again. Did he ever shut up?

“I like close relationships with the people I work with,” he said and went to stroke Crowley’s face. Crowley shot a hand up and caught Gabriel’s wrist. “I don’t,” he said, “And let’s get something clear right now. I don’t fuck the people who pay me – in any way.” Gabriel smirked and stepped back.

“What a shame. It would be great.”

I fucking doubt that, thought Crowley but he was relieved that the mayor had backed off.

“I’m going to leave this list with your secretary and I want everything on it in 24 hours. Most of the files can go in my office. I’ll expect the files on Detective Fell in the Apex in no more than two hours.”

“You have an office for a reason.”

“Yes and today I’ll be working from the hotel. I can only assume that if I stay here now, I will have nothing but a parade of young men and women stopping by to see if there is anything they can do for me until you and your friends figure out that I don’t sleep around when I’m working.  And I prefer to make my own arrangements in that department. So I’ll work the rest of the day in the hotel and you can pass that message along.”

“So I heard,” Gabriel said. “Will the blond who visited you on Sunday morning be returning?”

Crowley smiled internally. He’d suspected the receptionist was watching him for Gabriel and was happy to have the confirmation. Gabriel couldn’t know who it was because he would have hit the roof if he did, which meant he hadn’t missed any bugs in the room. And it was time for Crowley to give a little information back.

“No. I don’t make attachments and get bored very easily. I also don’t have time for that sort of thing while I’m working. I like to unwind on the first night and then focus on the job. However, I will be expecting my bar tab to be fully covered while I’m here as you’re not actually paying for the Apex. If you don’t piss me off, I’ll show you how to hide that better before I leave.”

He walked out of the room and handed the secretary the list of names. “I want everything – EVERYTHING – on all of these people. The files on Detective Fell are to be delivered immediately to my suite in the Apex and the rest can go in my office. Thank you.”

As he entered the lift with his head spinning he reached into his inside jacket pocket and turned off the neat little audio jammer, smiling to himself. Gabriel was outmatched and it was going to drive him nuts. But what to do about Aziraphale?

***

Gabriel watched the lawyer leave with a mix of pleasure and irritation. He had done a marvellous job with Aziraphale. His ex-husband had looked absolutely crushed by the time he left. He hadn’t looked so devastated when he found out about the first affair and he’d been pretty upset about that one. Crowley was quite a bastard and was clearly going to be highly effective but Gabriel didn’t like him. And he certainly didn’t trust him. He didn’t like being rejected either but that could wait. There were more important things to deal with right now and other ways to encourage compliance if he really wanted it.

He took his slim phone out of his pocket and stopped the recording. He’d been surprised that the lawyer had so freely admitted to lying but it might prove useful. He pressed play and got nothing but static. He pursed his lips in irritation. He didn’t know why it hadn’t work. He’d have to try again another time.

Chapter Text

Week 1: Monday afternoon and evening

Crowley sat in the lounge of his apartment looking at the files on Aziraphale and thinking glumly. He felt like an absolute asshole. As he read through the reports on him, it became increasingly clear that he was a genuinely good person. Maybe a little up himself but a really good man who always tried to do the right thing. And he’d hit him when he was desperate, lonely and facing humiliation in work – a humiliation that Crowley had orchestrated and deployed. And surely it now looked like he had set out to trick Aziraphale into bed. He groaned again and poured another coffee, wishing it was something stronger.

He needed to check in too but he really didn’t want to. He didn’t want to speak to anyone at the moment.  He enjoyed his work, for the most part, sometimes too much but he really didn’t want to continue this particular job. He wanted to run as far away as possible. But he couldn’t. Management had made it abundantly clear that there was no where he could go and not be found. And he believed them. Worse though, if management were right he would be here and that was the whole point – Crowley’s freedom in exchange for stopping whatever his former employer was up to. But Crowley was terrified of being in the same state as Lucas, never mind anywhere closer.  Things had gotten so far out of his control and he was completely stuck. For now. But he was still an optimist and he hoped he could yet make this work out in his favour. But first, he had to check in.

He got up and went to the safe in the bedroom. Obviously nothing in the Apex was really secure from Gabriel but he doubted that anyone would look at the old Bible too closely. The inscription on the front page was enough to make most people think that he kept it for sentimental value rather than out of spite. And even if they did look, the ruse was hard to spot. He’d had it rebound years ago and there was a trick to opening the back cover to reveal the ultrathin mobile phone he hid there. He looked at the inscription for a moment, thinking back. “My darling boy, may God protect you and guide you in your endeavours, Mother.”

Ha! Mother. What a bitch she’d turned out to be. She’d given him a hefty settlement and told him to fuck off when he said he was gay and refused to go to any of her horrible friends to have the problem “fixed.” Half of them probably would have tried to screw him anyway, and at 24 he had just enough confidence to walk away. But it had hurt so much, more than anything else in his life, to be rejected, cast out and told never to come home unless he righted himself. He had known it wouldn’t go down well but he never expected to be fully stricken from the family. She’d given him what she thought was a fair payment to give him a chance, as she saw it, and then disowned him entirely. But Crowley was clever and good with money. He’d turned the relatively small amount of money into quite a lot more. He’d discovered a talent at stocks and enjoyed to play the market – never too much and he always came out with more than he lost at the end of a year. He bought some property and invested wisely. His degrees in law and accounting, which he had waited to complete before telling his family he was gay, gave him entry to a wide range of places and he’d soon found a real talent for getting very rich but stupid people out of problems they had created themselves. Being clever, young and unattached with a tendency to get himself noticed by interesting people eventually led to him being approached for a very particular job that led to him departing London for New York ten years ago. He’d taken various legal exams starting with New York and could now practice law in several US states. He had smoothly transitioned to making obscene amounts of money sorting problems for political scumbags and gangsters that always involved getting them out of losing a lot of money and often involved helping them avoid jail. That, however, was not all he did.  

He sighed and took the phone out. He had already checked the room for bugs and found none but he turned on the app to do another sweep. Still nothing. Good. He hesitated for a moment but really couldn’t bear speaking to anyone so decided to text instead. He opened the messaging app and sent:  “A delightful hotel. Nice and secure.” He turned the phone off again and put it back in the Bible. Both went back in the safe and he returned to his coffee and guilty conscience.

His mind drifted back to the sofa early on Sunday morning, just after Aziraphale had kissed him unexpectedly.

Crowley lent into the kiss eagerly and felt a rush of pleasure as he was pushed, gently but firmly back onto the sofa. He squirmed to release his legs and lengthened himself down the cushions. Az lay half on top of him and continued to kiss him passionately. Crowley’s hands moved down Az’s back and he rested his left hand on the angelic man’s right hip and gently moved his right hand down further to caress a buttock. Az groaned into his mouth. Oh yes, thought Crowley, this is fucking fantastic. Az moved a hand up to Crowley’s hair and he moved into the touch, to encourage him. Az gave a very gentle tug and Crowley groaned. Yes! Pull my hair angel, he thought, curling into Az a little more. Az ran his other hand up Crowley’s left side, over his ribs and across his chest. His fingers made gentle, hesitant contact with Crowley’s exposed flesh and stroked along his sternum. At the same time he felt legs gently slot between his and there was another soft experimental tug on his hair. “Yes, do that more,” he said softly into the kiss. He gripped Az tighter and moved his hand up to the waist of his trousers. There wasn’t enough room to slip his hand down the back so he moved to the front to open them. He tugged Az to get more room to open his trousers and suddenly the other man was straddling him and looking down at him with lust blown eyes, breathing a little fast. Crowley grinned up at him and lent up to undo his shirt first.

“Which… em… what way… em…”

Holy shit, thought Crowley, maybe he really doesn’t do this often. “Anyway you want, Angel,” he purred. “I’m all yours to boss around for the rest of the night. You’re supposed to be teaching me manners, remember?  Honestly, I’d hope we’ve got more than one round in us so – both?” Aziraphale closed his eyes and groaned slightly.

Crowley went back to opening buttons. There were more than he expected and not a lot of space – it was a very tight fit. When he finally got the shirt open he gasped in delight and Aziraphale went bright red. “Sorry, I should have mentioned the corset. I… didn’t get a chance to change before coming over and em… there’s probably a bit more of me than you expected and...” Crowley ran his hand along the neat rows of small clasps that held the black corset around Az’s abdomen and sighed. “Oh yes, this is fabulous. Oh my god, you’re so fucking hot… fuck, look at you. Oh my god.” He pinched the top clasp and it released, Crowley groaned. He might not last long if things kept going like this. He didn’t remember ever being so turned on by anyone, not since… well never mind that. Az was so gorgeous he thought he might just explode.

Az looked down at him appearing slightly confused, “You don’t mind, this?” He gestured to his torso.

“Mind it? Are you fucking kidding me? How many more layers are there tonight? Oh god, you don’t have suspenders or anything on do you? Because I need a warning if you do or I’ll just fucking come all over you.” Az’s eyes opened wide and he laughed. “No, no I don’t. This is well... the uniform’s a bit tight these days.”

“Mummm…” Crowley pushed his hips up, tipping Az, who had to brace himself with hands either side of Crowley’s head, forward. “There is nothing like surprise sexy layers, Angel. Fuck.” He ran his hand over the corset again and then pulled Az down for a kiss. The angel gasped as Crowley’s hand moved between his legs. “And there is more of you than I expected,” he said giving a gentle squeeze, “but not so much that I can’t handle.” He twisted the top button of Az’s trousers and pulled the zip down slowly. He pushed his hand inside the trousers and they both groaned into each other’s’ mouths.

A buzzing on the table shook Crowley from his memories and he realised that he was slightly hard again. He sighed. He needed to get this under control and fast. He sat up and tried to focus. It had been a night of exquisite sex. He couldn’t understand how Gabriel had given Aziraphale up so easily. For what, cheap flings and bribes when he was already loaded and powerful, locally at least? And he had the cheek to tell a virtual stranger that his beautiful ex-husband was frigid? Crowley had been sorely tempted to disagree but that would lead to so much trouble for everyone. Sighing, he shook his head and tried again to focus. He reached for the phone and smiled. The message indicated that the programme he was running had finished and he sat looking at a string of numbers and letters. He’d been deeply amused at how easy it was to put the little programme to work on Gabriel’s computer. Security was a huge problem here but that would be the very last thing he fixed for the wretched mayor.

He pulled the laptop closer to him and opened the link to Gabriel’s government account. He entered the password and the screen obligingly moved to the detailed financial breakdowns he needed. He spent the next several hours going through the financial records of the mayor’s office, taking photographs on his phone and documenting everything. This was only the official accounts, there were several unofficial ones that would be harder to get into – it would probably be tomorrow before he had the codes – but even with this there was so much that was clearly illegal. Gabriel was not stupid but these accounts were utterly damming. Several million dollars were entirely unaccounted for over the last five years. And there were numerous odd transfers to various city officials including the Chief of Police. Crowley wondered, not for the first time, if there was more than a business arrangement there. Gabriel certainly seemed to be good at multitasking when it came to sex. Pity he wasn’t as good at it with anything else.

He made a plan of how to hide and move money around so that this could all be explained with only a few remaining inconsistencies – they were important. No large organisation had completely clean accounts. This was a nice easy win. And once the changes were made, he would be able to dismiss the first lawsuit against the mayor. It was all explainable and the case was brought by an over-eager young official at the state attorney general’s office. She’d get a slap on the wrist for being over-eager and be more careful next time. That was easy, he thought as he sat back and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at his watch and realised that he’d been working for over six hours straight. It was after 7 pm and he was suddenly very aware of his empty stomach. Deciding he needed to stretch his legs and get fully away from the computer screen, he tidied everything away and put the computer in the safe, resting on top of the Bible. He stretched and went downstairs to the restaurant.

Half an hour later, he was lounging beside a crackling fire, enjoying an excellent whiskey and steak with all the trimmings. It was lovely. He thought about the financial records and how much of a mess Gabriel was in. He had pushed his luck too much, of course or Crowley wouldn’t be here, but the attention from the state attorney general’s office could be problematic. The mayor had funnelled a lot of cash though his official account and then it had disappeared. It had been going on for at least five years but the last 18 months had seen Gabriel become much more lax and moving much faster and less cautiously than required to hide the transactions. Crowley assumed most of it was bribes and he suspected that a lot of it related to the Waterfront development that Gabriel was involved with under a shell corporation. He stood to make millions if it went though. But the increase in money flow and decrease in caution bothered him. Clearly Gabriel was being put under pressure to get something done and done fast. There was an external pressure that Gabriel was hiding from him.

There were other little mysteries in the accounts and he needed to get into the personal accounts and the ones no one was meant to know about before he could resolve them. One thing in particular was bothering him – large sums of money to a furniture company. Even the mayoral office didn’t need that much furniture and nothing new appeared to have been bought in years. It was clearly a front for something else. But he couldn’t imagine what – yet. He would figure it out. He always did.

“Enjoying your dinner,” said a smooth voice.

Crowley looked up and frowned.  “I don’t like to be micromanaged. I said I’d be in in the morning.”

Gabriel sat down opposite him while his assistant hovered in the background. “And I’m paying you enough for you to be on call.”

That was true enough but he wasn’t going to admit it. “I only took this job because of the extra zero you finally put on the contract. I’m not sure that counts as enough for me to be on call. Anyway, whatever. You’re here now. What do you want?” He cut another piece of steak and chewed slowly starring at Gabriel.

“Bit of an issue has cropped up. Aziraphale has been arrested one county over for drunk and disorderly behaviour and I need this hushed up. If it gets out that I bullied him so much he went and did something really stupid, it would undo the good work you did earlier today. It’s a careful balancing act and I need to look like the betrayed but magnanimous ex-husband. Not like an asshole.”

But you are an asshole, thought Crowley. “Yeah, ok. Just pay his bail or pay off whoever arrested him and send a car to bring him back.”

“I did that but he won’t leave.”

Crowley couldn’t fully repress a laugh.

“He is apparently saying something about how he may as well stay in jail because you’re only going to fuck him over again. I’ve never seen him take such a strong dislike to someone. It’s very out of character for him.”

The laughter died in Crowley’s throat. This could be a problem. “Then leave him there. I don’t see this damaging you that much. I’ve read the files you sent and he’s a pompous jerk. He’s had arguments with have the police force in your city and the rest try to stay away from him. You’re well shut of him.” His heart was beating too fast now. If Aziraphale told any of the cops in the jail that they’d slept together it would be back to Gabriel faster than lightning. Damn it. He didn’t need this. He needed Aziraphale to shut up and keep his head down, not cause trouble and certainly not this sort of trouble.

“You need to sort this out. That’s what I’m paying you for.”

Crowley looked at him in confusion. “What the fuck do you expect me to do about this? I said pay everyone involved off and drag him back to Sanctuary. You don’t need me to actually go and do that, do you?”

“Yes. I do. He won’t leave unless you go and get him. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway. I don’t know what about you has rubbed him up the wrong way so very much but apparently he wants to speak with you and is having a temper tantrum about it.”

“He thinks you’re sleeping with him, Mayor,” said Jim irritably. “He’s jealous.”

Irritation flared through Crowley. This was ridiculous. And a waste of his time. But, a voice whispered in his mind, you do want to see him again and this is an excellent excuse.

“I’ve had a drink. I’m probably over the limit.”

Gabriel looked at him quizzically. “Who cares? If you get a ticket, expense it.”

“I’m more concerned about getting arrested!”

“No one is going to arrest you in or near Sanctuary and you look fine to me. Get in your fucking car and bring that idiot home before he says anything too stupid.”

Crowley glared at Gabriel but knew he wasn’t going to win this. He’d barely had one drink so he was fine to drive. Gabriel was going to push this until he agreed and it probably was better if he went than anyone else. He wasn’t going to go quietly though.

“Fucking fine.” He pushed himself back from his half-eaten dinner and stormed over to one of the waiters. He asked for a large glass of cold water and then returned to the table.

“You can take Jim, if you need a driver,” said Gabriel.

The water arrived and Crowley lowered two thirds of it in one go. “No. I don’t need a babysitter and while I know exactly what you get from Jim here, I have no such requirements. As I have already told you. What I do need is for you to fucking give me all relevant information in future. I would have handled this morning entirely differently if I’d know your problem cop was also your ex-husband. I do not like being sent on run-about duty at night. I’ve spent all fucking afternoon and the early evening combing through your official accounts – which are a mess – and coming up with a way to get you out of the missing money problem with the attorney general’s office. I wanted a quiet fucking evening.” He finished the water, slammed the glass on the table and turned to leave.

Gabriel stood up looking furious. “How did you get into those records?!”

Crowley turned and smirked at him. “I told you. Give me the relevant information or I’ll get it myself. Stop fucking around Gabriel. I have a reputation to uphold and I won’t risk it on you being an idiot and not giving me what I need to do my job. If you don’t stop getting in my way, I’ll leave. It’s in the contract.” He turned and snapped his fingers at Jim. “Text me where Detective Fell is. If you follow me, I’ll kick the shit out of you.” The young man blanched and took and involuntary step backwards.

“Do you have a fix then?” asked Gabriel.

“Where am I to deposit Detective Fell when I acquire him? And I assume that briefcase has money in it to bribe whatever shits told you where he is?” Jim passed the briefcase over and Crowley clicked it open. Wads of 100 dollar bills starred back at him. He smiled. “I assume this is for more than tonight?”

“Yes,” said Gabriel. “It should keep you going for a while.”

“Good,” said Crowley, clicking the lid shut. “And yes, I have a fix for you but it will wait until morning. Assuming I’m back here before midnight, I’ll be in the office by 8 am. If it’s after midnight, I’ll be in later.”

“Bring him home. Where he lives is more depressing than a cell anyway.”

Crowley nodded and left. His phone buzzed with the zipcode for the county jail. It looked like at least an hour’s drive away. Great, he thought angrily. He’d been enjoying his dinner and time to mull over what he had discovered earlier in the day.

***

Crowley drove the beautiful Bentley GT Speed convertible out of Sanctuary at reasonable pace and pulled over once he was outside the city limits. He liked the car. He’d rented it in Chicago before he came here and expensed it. It was a matt dark maroon colour on the outside and entirely black inside apart from the silver trim around the doors and dashboard and little touches of maroon in stylish spots on the upholstery. It reminded him of his beautiful old Bentley at home. Someday he’d reclaim the car. He got out and pulled the briefcase with him. It was a cold but calm November night, which made this easier. He picked up one of the wads of bills and flicked through it careful. A bug popped out onto his hand almost immediately. He dropped it on the ground and stood on it. That’s one, he thought. He flicked through every note twice and found two more. Sighing, he put the money carefully on the back seat of the car and took his pen knife out of his pocket. He carefully ripped the inside of the briefcase apart and found several other bugs. One was quite cleverly hidden behind the clasps on an inside pocket. After about fifteen minutes, he was fairly sure he had them all but as a precaution he took the audio jammer out of his pocket, turned it on and placed it inside the case. He returned the money and closed the briefcase carefully. He considered for a moment and then decided that he should check the car too. His regular phone had a bug checker but he was never as confident in this one as in the special one on his other phone. He swept the car and found nothing. Hopefully, that was accurate. He needed to be careful though. He got back into the car and checked the time. It was 9.30 pm. Oh well, he thought, better put my foot down. Grinning, he pushed the car up to over 170 miles per hour and exalted in the speed. It was a very nice car. 

In far less time that it should legally have taken, he pulled up outside the county jail. He parked erratically and pulled the briefcase out with him. He steadied himself and walked into the building.

“Oh well you absolutely must be Mr Crowley,” said the young man on the desk.

Crowley smiled crookedly. “The very same. Where is my wayward friend? And how much is it going to cost to get him poured into my car without paperwork? I hope he’s done vomiting because he’s not getting in the Bentley if he isn’t.”

“Bentley!” said the young officer and Crowley recognised that particular variety of lust easily. He threw the keys at the young man and said “I guess we’ll be about 10 or 15 minutes. Don’t damage anything. Where is he?” The young officer pointed inside and let Crowley enter the holding area where a duty sergeant was present. He heard the car pulling out to take a spin around the carpark and smiled.

“Mr Crowley. What on Earth have you done to my fellow officer here that has him so upset?” The sergeant actually looked offended and Crowley changed tact immediately. He looked down at his feet and stood awkwardly. “I fucked him over massively. And I am sorry but I work for his ex-husband and I didn’t know that at the time and well, I was honestly just doing my job trying to protect the mayor from false accusations and a possible frivolous lawsuit. But if I’d known their history, I would have handled it entirely differently, I swear.”

“Humpf. A lawyer’s word is worth shit to me. And how the Hell did you not know? Everyone knows. What is it, your first day?”

Crowley glanced up shyly and said, “Em, yes actually. So you can imagine that it’s not gone entirely well. The mayor is incredibly pissed off with me and I’ll probably be lucky to still have a job tomorrow. I really didn’t know. I guess it’s all just complicated when it’s personal, you know?”

The old sergeant appeared to take a little pity on him. “Well, be careful with Archer, he’s a slippery one. But Fell here has been demanding, somewhat incoherently, to speak with you so I guess he wants to tell you exactly what he thinks of you. I won’t let him punch you but you’ll take whatever he has to say and if he doesn’t want to go with you, he stays here until he’s fully sober.”

Crowley was impressed. Maybe there were more honest cops in the area than he had thought. The man didn’t even glance at the briefcase.  “Yeah, ok. Understood.”

The sergeant pushed a button and the door buzzed until Crowley pushed it open. He stepped into the holding area and felt guilt crush his heart like a vice. Aziraphale was curled up on the bench attached to the wall looking utterly wrecked. He had clearly thrown up at least once judging by the smell and his coat. Fuck, how much did he drink?

“Detective Fell,” he said softly, “I’m here to bring you home. Em… Mayor Archer sent me to collect you.”

Aziraphale stirred at his voice and an eye opened. He tried to straighten himself but swayed and fell back against the wall. Oh god, he’s utterly trashed.

“Detective Fell, are you ok? Are you willing to come with me? I’ll bring you home.”

“You’re b’st’rd”

“Yes, I am. We can discuss that here or later, as you wish.”

Crowley turned back to look out at the sergeant. “Has any bloodwork been taken?” He was suspicious. Aziraphale had been here for hours and even if he’d drunk a lot, he shouldn’t be this incoherent. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re definitely new. I haven’t even booked him. I don’t want a paper trail. He doesn’t deserve that. And we’re not fancy like wherever you come from, pretty boy. No on call blood work. He beeped the breathalyser but we didn’t do anything else.”

Compassion, convenience or a set up? Hard to know.

Crowley moved closer to the bars and spoke softly. “Aziraphale, are you ok?”

“I ‘ate you. B’st’rd. You fuc’ed me real goo’ and fucked me again. Di’ you get paid proper? You a good little whore for him?”

Oh god, thankfully he’s so drunk no one will figure out what he’s actually saying. I’ve got to get him out.

“Yes, look sorry about that. But you should come with me. I’ll take you home.”

“You m bigst regret. ‘ate you.”

Crowley felt sick. “I know. And you’re right to hate me but will you stand up and come with me? Can you open the cell, please?” The door buzzed and Crowley walked in towards Aziraphale. He stood up shakily and, without any warning took a swing at Crowley that connected and sent him to his knees. Aziraphale laughed. “Bet’er at this than you!” Crowley massaged his jaw and nodded. “Yes, apparently. But you only get one free shot. I deserved that.” So much for sergeant whoever not letting him clock me! He heard a restrained chuckle from the other room followed by, “You’re a lawyer. You deserve one for something.”

Crowley stood up and this time caught the punch and spun Aziraphale around and dragged him toward him so he could hiss in his ear. “Fucking cut it out. I’m trying to help you. Get in the fucking car and let me take you home.”

“Oh, yeah? Wanna another round?”

“Jesus fucking Christ will you shut up? You’re going to get us both in a lot of trouble. How much did you fucking drink?”

“I ‘ad two pints. Gettin’ old ‘parently.” No fucking way this is the result of two pints.

“Come with me and get in the car, Detective,” Crowley said firmly, “or I will leave you here to rot. I don’t think any more offers of lifts home will be forthcoming. Now do what you are told and come with me.” The fight drained out of Aziraphale and he went slightly limp against Crowley. Fearing a trick he shifted him around but kept one arm pinned against his side and held the other with an arm he kept wrapped around Aziraphale. “You smell nice, b’st’rd.” Oh for fuck’s sake. “Thank you, now come with me.”

Crowley half-dragged the very drunk detective back out and said “I’ll put him in the car and come back to you, ok?” The sergeant nodded.

The car was back in the carpark, parked properly between the lines with the young officer standing outside still admiring it. “Thanks mister. That’s quite a car.”

“Isn’t she a beauty?” Crowley huffed slightly as he maneuvered Aziraphale into the passenger seat. “Work hard and maybe you’ll get one too one day. Honesty, it’s a rental so it’s not that hard,” he laughed.  “Keep an eye on my friend while I finish up inside, will you?”

He was back a few minutes later, having been roundly refused any “for your trouble” money, which surprised him and he relieved the young officer of Aziraphale who was now snoring in the car. He shook his head, got in the car and drove away. He kept to the speed limit this time and wondered what to do. Aziraphale was not drunk. He was off his head on drugs and Crowley strongly suspected that was not intentional. Well not on Aziraphale’s part anyway. This absolutely stank. He pulled off the highway about 30 minutes from the jail and pulled into a small empty layby. He had an idea but unfortunately it was in New York so she would only be able to help a little.

Nina picked up the phone on the second call. “What Crowley, I’m in work.”

“Yeah I know, sorry. Look I have a question. How would I know if someone had been drugged against their will?”

“What have you done now?”

“No! Fuck off not by me. I’ve got a friend in the car who I’ve just taken out of a county jail. Everyone says he’s drunk but he has just about managed to tell me he’s had two pints and he’s off his damn head. He’s been in there for hours. If it was beer, he’d have puked and been sober ages ago. He’s currently asleep in the passenger seat. I don’t know if I should bring him to a hospital or take him home. Let’s say records of this would be a real problem.”

“Crowley, I don’t know. It could be anything depending on his history, health and what he was actually drinking. If you can’t bring him to a hospital you should stay with him, maybe try to get him to drink some water but even that I don’t know without knowing what he took. If he starts getting really unwell, you have to take him to hospital. Keep an eye on his pulse and breathing.  Sorry, I can’t say more.”

“Yeah ok, thanks though. You behaving, Doc? Wish I was nearer, I’d just bring him to you.”

“Yes I know. And you’d bring trouble with you.” Her tone softened then. “I’m fine. Passed the latest round of exams well so all good. Look there is something we’re starting to see but it’s unusual. Drug called “demon”. It’s potent and lasts for ages – way longer than usual – but it can have really bad side-effects. It’s very unpredictable. Watch your friend and no matter how much of a problem it might be, bring him to hospital if he’s not awake and speaking in the next hour or two. Try to stay out of trouble – I’d like to see you again.”

“Proud of you Doc. And don’t worry – I’ll do what you say.”

“That would be a first.” She hung up.

Shit. Just got to sit here and wait to see if you’re going to try to die on me. Super.

Crowley turned the heat on low and added the radio a few minutes later. Aziraphale seemed comfortable enough and was snoring so maybe he’d be ok. His pulse didn’t look elevated. Hopefully this wasn’t anything too bad. But it was so suspicious. And he knew about demon and where it was coming from. This all reeked. It finally dawned on Crowley to wonder how Aziraphale had gotten to the small town so far outside of Sanctuary. There was no impounded or even mentioned car. Someone had brought him here. More and more problematic. And he’d have to get him back relatively soon or there would be questions and dear Jim was probably watching wherever Aziraphale lived for Gabriel. He sighed and closed his own eyes. He might as well rest for a bit. He’d give Aziraphale until midnight and then see if he could wake him.

As it transpired he accidentally dozed off and was slapped awake about an hour later. “Fuck! Was that really necessary?”

“I considered rolling you out of the car and driving off but as I’ve got a terrible headache I thought I’d just wake you up instead. Prick.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Is that at the top of the list of things you didn’t mean to do recently? Or has everything else been by design?” Crowley rubbed his eyes and sore face gingerly. Aziraphale had slapped him in the same spot that he had punched him earlier.

“We can’t talk here. This is a work car, you understand?”

“Then get out.”

“What?”

“Get the fuck out because we’re talking now.”

Oh bloody Hell. “You’re not to hit me again.”

“I haven’t hit you yet!”

“Not true. You fucking clocked me earlier when I came to get you and you’ve just slapped me awake.” Aziraphale looked confused but got out of the car and stormed off down the road a bit. Crowley struggled to extract himself from the car in his drowsy irritation but eventually got his limbs in order and walked after the fuming angelic police officer.

Aziraphale was sitting on a tree stump about 50 yards down the road.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t remember hitting you. I don’t remember much of this evening at all, honestly and I have no recollection whatsoever of getting into a car with you. I em… I guess I drank too much. Where are we and why are you here?”

Crowley looked at him with worry and sat on another tree stump, slightly concerned about his suit. It was meant for boardrooms and fancy cars not traipsing about near trees. “What do you remember? I’ll tell you what I know but I need to know what you remember first.”

Aziraphale nodded. This was familiar but he wasn’t usually on the answering questions side. “I left the meeting this morning – thanks for that by the way. I assume that was all your idea? It was too well executed to be Gabriel’s but he clearly enjoyed it. You’re certainly worth whatever he’s paying you.” Aziraphale glared at him. Crowley did not respond. “I went back to the station and handed over my badge and gun as required and got yelled at by lots of colleagues who truly resent the training they will all be made to do because I lost my temper with those assholes.  That was a particularly nice move from Beez. Then I went home. I sat around for a bit having a good think about how much of a bloody fool I am – when are you going to let the other shoe drop, by the way? I’ll be fired once our little arrangement comes to light. I’m surprised Gabriel could contain himself – not his style at all. I won’t be pressured into doing anything illegal though – nothing more than I’ve already done anyway. So you won’t be able to hold it as leverage over me. Not for so much as a dropped speeding ticket. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“We’ll get back to that but it’s not what you think. What did you do then?”

Aziraphale continued to glare at him but went on. “I walked back into town and went for a drink around half six or seven this evening. I had two beers and that’s the last thing I remember. I was talking to someone but I don’t remember who.”

“You kept up fine with me on Saturday night,” said Crowley feeling his face heat and glad of the darkness, “so there is no way two beers blacked you out. I think you were drugged.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you say you don’t remember anything else but we’re a bit outside of Chester and I’ve just dragged you out of the county jail.”

“What?! How did I get there? Oh fuck, was I arrested?” He put his head in his hands and looked utterly distraught. Crowley wanted to put his arms around him and promise him everything would be ok. But he thought if he touched him, Aziraphale would punch him again and he wouldn’t lie to him. Things probably would not be ok.

“Not really. Not officially anyway. I guess the old sergeant on duty recognised you and he didn’t do any paperwork. He… he called Gabriel. He sent someone to get you but apparently you refused to leave the cell and they thought you were demanding to see me but you were actually trying to tell them that we had slept together and you expected to be fired because of it. What came out was a string of expletives about how much of a bastard you think I am and how much I fucked you over. They misinterpreted I guess but just as well. Gabriel demanded I go and bring you back. My best guess is that you were drugged and brought here with the hope you’d be arrested and discredited. But I don’t know by whom or why.”

“It must have been Vincent on duty. He’s decent and hates paperwork. Oh god, what a mess. And aren’t you such a good boy doing all of Gabriel’s nasty tasks. Including me I suppose.”

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. He wished he could explain. “I did not know who you were on Saturday night. I was brought here to deal with a range of problems facing Gabriel and his administration one of which was a detective called Aziraphale Fell who was asking too many questions and needed to be dealt with, not a bloody beat cop who only told me his name was Az. I didn’t know. I swear.”

“You’re a fucking snake and I don’t believe you. Are you Gabriel’s latest plaything? Did you enjoy comparing notes?”

Crowley felt sick. “It’s not like that. He’s vile and I wouldn’t touch him. I don’t understand how you ever did!” He said all this with far more heat than he meant and felt his control of the conversation slipping.

Aziraphale looked up at him with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “I guess you’re older than he usually likes but if you work closely with him, you’re fucking him. Or you will be soon. So feel free to tell him how you found me. Still too fat for him and probably not as exciting as you are used to. He won’t be better though. I at least put in a bit of effort for the other person.”

“Fuck! Stop! Please. I didn’t know. I didn’t!” Crowley had stood up and was shouting now. He felt his vision blur. Fuck! I have to stop this! I need to calm down or I’m going to ruin everything. For all I know he could be working for Gabriel or wanting to get back with him for a comfortable life.

He couldn’t quite control himself though. “I shouldn’t have propositioned you but if you arrested me, I’d have been fucked. I have to be here for this job. I have to! I fancied the arse off you and I thought I’d proven that on Saturday night. That was the best night I’ve had in a fucking long time – maybe ever. You’re gorgeous and I don’t care what your ex thinks but I really, really need him to not find out about this. Not for the next few weeks.”

“Yeah sure, no problem,” said Aziraphale coldly. “We’ll wait until you want to hang me fully. You’re timeline. Fine by me. My advice – when you can’t dodge him anymore, just lie there and take it. He’ll get bored and move on to someone else soon enough. It’s not great, but not that bad either. If you show the enthusiasm you did on Saturday, you’ll never get rid of him.”

Crowley closed his eyes tightly and tried to find something to say that might make Aziraphale not absolutely hate him. He came up with nothing. He couldn’t trust him to tell him the truth and it would put him in even greater danger anyway. “I’m here for six weeks to sort out Gabriel’s legal problems. Please just keep your head down and stay out of trouble. Someone tried to hurt you tonight so you’re not free of this crap. Can you get out of town for a while?”

“No. I can’t. I have nowhere to go.”

Crowley sighed. It was a one-night stand, nothing’s changed he told himself. But he felt like he’d lost something tonight.

“Get back in the car. I’ll drive you home.”

“Just like you’ve been told to. What a good, obedient boy you are.”

Aziraphale stood up and gave him an absolutely withering look as he walked back to the car and got in. Crowley wanted to scream. He stayed outside for another few minutes to try to cool his temper. He didn’t like to drive angry.

He got back in the car and looked over at Aziraphale but the detective was staring out the other window and refused to acknowledge his existence.

They drove in silence until the road signs for Sanctuary appeared. “I em… I don’t know where you live. You’ll have to direct me.”

“Well you take direction well, so I’m sure we’ll manage.”

Fuck, thought Crowley, he’s such a fucking bitch.

A few minutes later, Crowley was pulling the Bentley up outside a trailer park on the outskirts of the city. He was horrified. “This is where you live?”

“Yes. This is where I live. And I live, like the other people here, honesty and at my own expense. This is what it looks like when you can’t be bought. Not something you’d be familiar with. I’d offer to tip, but I’m sure Gabriel will take care of that and let’s be fair, there isn’t a dresser to leave the money on.” He got out, slammed the door shut and walked off without a backward glance.

Crowley vaguely considered shouting “I’m a high priced lawyer not a hooker,” after him but right now that sounded like an insult to the hookers. He was horrified at where Aziraphale lived – surely cops weren’t paid that poorly here? Had Gabriel really managed to financially ruin him while divorcing him? He glanced at the time – 2 am. He was not going to be in the office for 8 am. They’d be lucky to see him before midday. He pulled away and drove back to his luxury apartment in the penthouse of the Apex feeling like utter crap.

***

Gabriel sat alone in his dark office with only a whiskey for company. He was irritated beyond belief. He though one of the bugs might get through but that slick bastard had found them all. He’d listened as one by one they disconnected and stopped transmitting. He had to admit that Crowley was excellent at what he did. The lawyer was smooth to a fault and knew exactly the type of person he was working for. Gabriel hadn’t bugged the hotel room because he worried that Crowley would find them and then just leave and it had been made abundantly clear to him that Crowley was who they needed here to fix the mess. The mess Gabriel had made himself but only because of the pressure he was being put under to get things finished so that larger plans could commence. If he’d been given more time, he could have been more careful. It really wasn’t his fault. But now, with much bigger plans close to completion, his silent partner had suddenly become very vocal and insisted that Crowley was the best at sorting these things out. He didn’t like playing second fiddle to anyone but he stood to gain so much that he would do what he was told for now. And, though he would never admit it, he was scared shitless of his business partner. If this worked, it would catapult him to the national stage and he would make an absolute fortune. It was everything he had ever hoped for. His partner thought he’d be happy with the governor’s mansion but that was only the start as far as Gabriel was concerned. Right now, he needed the good will of his partner and the legal problems tidied away. So he’d put up with Crowley’s arrogance and smarmy attitude. He’d sent him to get Aziraphale mostly to annoy him but also to try to get the lawyer to start to learn that he was to do what he was told while in Sanctuary. He also had suspicions. Aziraphale had been far too angry with Crowley – it felt personal and Gabriel wanted to know what was happening there.

He sat back listening to the background sounds of the jail and smiled. He heard Crowley enter but as he got closer to Aziraphale the sound stuttered and was replaced by white noise. “Fucking smarmy bastard!” Gabriel growled and slammed his hand on the beautiful oak desk. The prick must have an audio blocker. That was why his recording had failed in the boardroom. Furious with himself, he got up and got another drink. He dozed in his chair until Aziraphale’s apologetic tones roused him “What?” he mumbled. “’Ziraphale, where are you?” And then he blinked himself fully awake and grinned.

Crowley, Mr Slick, so sharp he’d finally cut himself. They had left the car, likely because Crowley worried he had missed a bug but now Crowley’s audio blocker was out of range. He clearly hadn’t searched Aziraphale for bugs. Gabriel listened in vague irritation as Aziraphale rambled through his boring day before getting to the bar and finally the jail in Chester. Gabriel had been a little surprised at how easy it had been to have him drugged and handed over to the Chester police, such as they were. He was also slightly alarmed by the reports of Aziraphale’s behaviour. Demon had clearly not agreed with him, but he sounded fine now so it was nothing to worry about. He would reconsider using it on Aziraphale again though. He didn’t want him dead, he wanted him contained and desperate. He wanted him with nowhere else to turn. Aziraphale had been a good political spouse and he would be again – after a few months of diet and exercise. And this time, he would just stand there looking pretty and respectable and doing what he was damn well told. Gabriel sighed and sipped the whiskey. God Aziraphale went on.

“I’ll be fired once our little arrangement comes to light.”

“What?! What arrangement?!” Gabriel’s heart rate increased and he was now paying rapt attention. Was Aziraphale working with Crowley? Were they both working for someone else?

“You kept up with me fine on Saturday night.” Gabriel hissed a sharp breath between his teeth. They did know each other! Or had met before the exercise in humiliation in the boardroom at the very least.

“… but you were actually trying to tell them that we had slept together and you expected to be fired because of it.” The glass shattered in Gabriel’s hand. They were not just talking about drinking. He gritted his teeth in rage and forced himself to keep listening. Aziraphale had been the fucking blond who had gone to Crowley’s hotel room on Saturday night! The fucking tart. They’d both pay for this.

Gabriel smiled grimly as he listened to the argument. Aziraphale didn’t believe Crowley – how could he? It was ridiculous to think the lawyer was sincere. He could have anyone, had turned down Gabriel! For what? Aziraphale. Ridiculous and yet... unless he was giving an Oscar-worthy performance, he sounded like he genuinely cared about Aziraphale and that could be very useful. What a good little honey trap his wayward man was after all. Gabriel got another glass and poured a fresh whiskey. This could be a very useful development indeed and Crowley would pay for fucking his husband without asking first.

Chapter Text

Week 1: Midday Tuesday

“He’s bloody obnoxious! He was drunk off his head and abused me all the way back to that bloody trailer park he lives in! I’m not dealing with him directly again. He accused me of…” Crowley grimaced as he looked at Gabriel, “all sorts of inappropriate things. And again, I say you need to give me all of the information. He’s really got it in for you. And fucking look at me! I’ve got a fucking black eye! That’s going to look great in court if it isn’t gone down by the end of the week.”

Crowley was pacing up and down Gabriel’s office gesturing wildly. He had an idea about protecting Aziraphale and himself. If Gabriel thought they both hated each other then he wouldn’t suspect anything else. Not that there was anything to suspect because it was only half a lie, unfortunately. “You need to keep him from interfering. My suggestion – and it’s really not a suggestion, let me be clear – is that his suspension is extended to six weeks. That way if he does do anything while I’m trying to fix your mess, you can justifiably fire him! Or better yet, throw him in a cell.”

“I told you he was jealous,” said Jim smugly.

Crowley snarled as he turned around and continued his pacing. “Jim-boy is right about that. The things he said to me! If he says that sort of thing around town, your reputation will take a hit. He’s your ex-husband – he’ll be believed about sexual scandal. And I most sincerely hope that you do not require everyone who works for you to sleep with you because that will come back to bite you and not in a fun way. I wouldn’t leave your toy boy alone with him though. He’s unhinged.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous? Should we get a psychological evaluation?”

Ok reel it back a bit. Crowley signed deeply. “No, not really. I think he’s very hurt and very broken. You’ve won there. Just leave him alone. He was appallingly drunk last night but I don’t think it’ll be a habit. If it is, arrest him. I do, however, think his suspension should be extended. We need him out of the way while I’m here.”

Gabriel nodded. He pushed the intercom and said “Get me Kane on the phone, please.” Crowley was surprised at how polite he was to his secretary and she’d clearly been selected as someone he wasn’t interested in sleeping with. She was close to 40 and pretty but definitely not Gabriel’s type given Aziraphale’s comments about weight. A few minutes later, she buzzed back to say the Chief was on the phone.

Gabriel smiled and picked up the receiver. “Hi Beez. Look, we want something taken care of but not on the books. Aziraphale was seriously drunk last night. I sent Crowley to get him and he was abusive all the way from Chester to Sanctuary. He even punched him.  No, I’ve no idea how he got there. I only found him, thankfully, because the Sargent there called me. But really, we need to stop this before he hurts himself or someone else. Can you extend his suspension from two to six weeks? Just say “new information” came to light or something we don’t need to embarrass him any more than we already have. You can tell Aziraphale it’s because of how he treated Crowley but let’s keep it largely quiet. That OK?”

Crowley felt shit but this might just keep Aziraphale safe and he already hated him so this wouldn’t change anything.

“Great, thanks,” said Gabriel as he hung up the phone. “That’s no problem. Now can we please talk about the financial issues you discovered yesterday? I’ll have more access for you later today assuming your solution is sensible.” Crowley nodded and sat down opposite Gabriel. Time to work.

***

Crowley’s hands stroked his sides and wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close again. The skin contact felt like being embraced by silk and sent shivers and thrills though him in equal measure. Every movement flooded him with pleasure. He felt adrift, like he wasn’t entirely aware of anything outside of the two of them. The other man’s lips traced his collarbone and lingered on his neck. Crowley’s left hand drifted down Aziraphale’s right arm and his fingers sought their counterparts. Crowley entwined their fingers and somehow moved them closer together; like he would never let go.  It defied description. The whispered affirmations were almost better than the physical touch “gorgeous, beautiful, fuck look at you” and it went on. He’d never been spoken to like that, even when things were good with Gabriel, the best he got was being told he looked nice, never anything more. Crowley pushed him back onto the bed and he sank between the black satin pillows. The redhead’s eyes glowed in the dim light, almost appearing amber for a moment. He bit his lower lip and stroked Aziraphale’s chest with his right hand, still keeping their other hands pressed together. “I could stay here with you forever, Angel.” Aziraphale sighed and reached for the gorgeous man atop him and pulled him down to another kiss.

Aziraphale woke with a horrendous headache and sore stomach. The dream that was also a memory, made him twist in agony and anger. He sat up and the room spun around him. He thought he might vomit and didn’t know if he could stand up to make it to the bathroom to do so. What had he drunk last night? Beyond two pints, he couldn’t remember. He heaved himself carefully out of bed and swayed for a moment until he was sure he could walk. He stumbled to the bathroom where he emptied his stomach. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor, he rested his head against the wall of the trailer. It was a nice one and Crowley’s attitude to his home annoyed him more than almost anything else. It was hardly surprising that the dickhead lawyer was also a bloody snob. He had it written all over him. If he was here to sort out Gabriel’s problems he likely moved in the worst of circles but Aziraphale bet he never got his own beautiful manicured hands dirty. Hands that moved over his body softly, caressingly and like they were connected to a man who might actually care how this felt for him. Aziraphale rubbed his eyes and stopped the memory. It had been an act like everything else with the bastard. Crowley was the absolute worst type of lawyer.  One of the ones who didn’t give a damn who he hurt by keeping the most horrendous people free and unpunished. He’d had run-ins with Crowley’s type before but he’d never been stupid enough to go to bed with any of the others. “What the fuck am I going to do,” he said softly to himself. He felt utterly worthless. Everything he tried to do to make things better failed and now he was bloody suspended for the next two week after being utterly humiliated in a very public manner.

The memories of the previous evening crashed back into his mind and he groaned. He vaguely remembered being wrestled into the cell by Vincent and a young officer. The old sergeant had spoken calmly to him and tried to settle him but he had resisted. Vincent was an old acquaintance and he was very lucky that he hadn’t done anything other than call Gabriel. He didn’t remember getting to Chester or anything else about being in the county jail. He remembered Crowley arriving and shouting something at him but then he had no memory of anything until he woke up in the fancy car.  Yesterday had been a spectacularly bad day. Maybe he would just go back to bed. Being awake didn’t feel remotely necessary today.

A buzzing on the phone he didn’t realise he had in his trousers pocket roused him. He looked at it and saw the text message from Uriel. She had tried to call him earlier but he clearly hadn’t heard it. He opened the message and signed. “Perfect,” he mumbled. He was suspended for six weeks now, not two. And without pay. He would struggle to pay the rent here next month but once he didn’t get any further suspensions it would be ok. And this too was because of Crowley, apparently. He really hated the bastard lawyer. With beautiful kind eyes and soft lips. “Stop it, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled at himself.

As he was about to haul himself back to bed and sleep the rest of the day away, when there was an excited rapping on the door. He recognised it and smiled slightly. He struggled to his feet and moved to the door, opening it to the grubby face of one of the local children. “Hello Brian, what can I do for you?”

The child scrunched up his face unhappily and said, “You smell like pa when mam chucks him outside!”

“Em… yes, sorry.”

“Mam sent me with this – a thanks for something I don’t remember.” The boy thrust out a jar of coffee and Aziraphale smiled deeply. It was in thanks for him fixing the hot water the previous week. Maybe things were looking up.

“Tell her I said thank you. This is very kind indeed.”

The boy scrunched his face again and said, “Don’t like to be rude Mr Detective Azree Fell but I’d have a shower or something.”

Aziraphale laughed. “You might take your own advice young man. You’re filthy – again!”

The boy frowned. “I’ve been playing. That’s all clean dirt!”

“I suppose that’s true. Thank your mother and run along.” The boy waved and ran off back towards his own side of the trailer park. He, of course, managed to find the only puddle in the area and splashed straight through it. Aziraphale felt for his mother – there was just no keeping some children clean and Brian was one of the worst. But he was a lovely kid. He closed the door and winced as he sniffed himself. “Seriously, what was I drinking last night?” He walked over to the kettle and decided that coffee would help and then he would shower. Sleeping away his misery wouldn’t actually achieve anything.

As he drank the coffee, he thought back to the horrors of yesterday. Crowley – the bastard – had said something about him being drugged. That would explain a lot, but what was the point? Why drug him and then leave him in Chester? Why make Crowley bring him home?  Maybe he had annoyed Gabriel and it was just a minor unconnected punishment. He had no idea. He was lucky it had remained off the books but that felt like something else that could be used against him. He seemed to be collecting evidence against himself faster than anyone else. Maybe he should just leave this alone? Maybe he should just leave entirely. His uncle was constantly asking him to come home and help him run the bookshop. But he couldn’t leave here when he knew some of what Gabriel was up to. He wouldn’t. It wasn’t right.

Boiling the kettle for another coffee, he showered quickly and then looked at what he had been wearing and grimaced. Everything reeked and he had apparently thrown up on his coat. He huffed in displeasure and threw everything into the washing machine and took out his laptop. He’d be damned if he was leaving any of this alone. Gabriel and his bastard lawyer were not going to stop him getting justice.

***

Gabriel looked up as Jim knocked on his door. “Yes?”

“We lost the signal, sorry sir.”

Gabriel frowned. “How?”

“I think it went in a washing machine.”

Gabriel pushed his head back and sighed in frustration. “Typical. Ok, never mind. I got what I needed last night anyway.”

***

Wednesday early afternoon

Aziraphale woke up beside his laptop with a stiff neck and back. Forty really was a magic number and not in a good way. Then again, Gabriel had been right about needing more exercise. Asshole that he was, he took time to look after himself and he would never sleep at his desk and wake up with a stiff neck. Aziraphale stretched and groaned. He regarded the work he had done yesterday and smiled. He had remembered pretty much all of it and even if he couldn’t prove anything, he now had a record of what he knew, what he suspected and where he needed to start.

All of Gabriel’s latest nonsense seemed to focus on the Waterfront. He’d been bribing people liberally for the last six months and it all linked to that development. The email he had found to a furniture company still confused him and it was the only thing he still had but it made no sense. It promised delivery within 48 hours for a frankly ridiculous express charge but the site was barely starting construction and certainly not ready for furniture. He assumed it was a front for something but he had no idea what.

A few weeks ago, before he was busted back to the street, he had spoken to several criminal informants in the area who had all told him there was a lot of unusual activity there. Construction workers were there erratically – active one day and then gone for weeks at a time. In part, Aziraphale knew that was due to challenges from local business owners who objected to the rushed planning approval and were taking legal action against the development. He knew that Gabriel had been in and out of court with this and assumed that it was one of the top things on the bastard Crowley’s list to sort out. Gabriel wanted this to move forward very badly and he wasn’t being as careful about it as he should have been. There had to be a reason but Aziraphale couldn’t find anything beyond prosaic bribes and a few threats. Nothing solid or easy to prove.

Aside from the construction project, one of his CIs had complained about new boys moving in and pushing out the local drug dealers. Apparently, they were extremely rough. But there had been no reports to the police and nothing about any disturbances. When he went to the hospital, they had roundly refused to answer any questions about any increase in emergency admissions but he knew several of the local low-level drug dealers had had the absolute shit kicked out of them. His CI was terrified and said that he was leaving. Apparently, whoever the new boss was, he didn’t like competition and didn’t like to ask the same question twice – so anyone who said no, didn’t get a second chance to say yes. After the first few beatings, the other locals fell in line and whoever this new guy was had taken over efficiently and in record time. Aziraphale was sure that Gabriel was involved. With is current focus on the Waterfront, there was no way a new drug lord was in the area without his blessing.

Aziraphale sat looking at one of his lists and thinking. He needed to go down to the Waterfront and see for himself. But he had no gun, no badge and no authority. If he was found, he would probably end up in a cell himself. He didn’t notice his back straighten and his lips compress as he decided. He stood up and stretched again. After a change of clothes and a coffee, he walked out of his trailer and, glancing at the car he couldn’t currently afford to run, began the walk to the Waterfront.

It was at least a 90 minute walk and gave him plenty of time to continue to think about the entire mess. He hadn’t really been able to do much for the last month mostly because walking the streets for the first time in over a decade had him exhausted. It infuriated him that Gabriel had been at least partially right about his fitness. However, he thought grimly, the month of walking meant it didn’t bother him in the slightest that he needed to walk to the Waterfront now. So he’d done him a favour in a way after all.

He’d been compiling evidence against Gabriel for the last few years but it had all been minor enough that he knew it would never go anywhere. And he knew it looked like he was a bitter ex even though he was the one who had filed for divorce and the one who had declined a settlement. Gabriel had spun it to look like he was the injured party, despite the fact that almost everyone in any position of power in Sanctuary either knew about or had participated in his affairs. Aziraphale had been good at standing beside Gabriel and hosting his fund-raisers and parties. He was not good at lying, manipulating and deceiving people and had therefore come out very much second best in the entire divorce fiasco. Gabriel’s friends were rich and powerful in the city and were happy to sigh sadly and say how unfortunate it was that Aziraphale had taken the divorce so poorly. His few friends in the police snarled at Gabriel’s name but couldn’t do anything to help and asked Aziraphale to back off, for everyone’s good. Those friends could now be counted on one hand, if he was being generous with how he counted. As a result, Aziraphale was isolated and broke. And now suspended and basically a pariah in the department.

He sighed as he walked along the river that would eventually take him to the Waterfront. He was entirely alone in this. He couldn’t involve the few friends he had in this – Muriel was far too innocent and would do anything he asked without question and he wouldn’t abuse that. And Uriel had already done more than he expected to try to protect him. He couldn’t ask her to actually help with this. She was a decent captain and tried to keep the corruption to a minimum but Beez would destroy her if she stepped out of line. And she had her mother’s medical expenses to worry about. He wouldn’t do that to her. Erik, the cybercrime expert whom he was sure was desperately trying to get Muriel to notice him, he might be able to ask for the odd favour. But he needed to know exactly what he would be asking him to look for. The furniture company floated to the front of his mind again but he wasn’t sure what to ask.

As he walked, his mind drifted back over the course of his whole disastrous relationship. Gabriel had been taking and offering bribes for a long time. He’s been so upset when he found the envelop full of cash in the bedroom eight years ago. They were married four years at that point and he had thought that they were doing well. They had the occasional argument but that didn’t feel unusual and Gabriel disappeared for a few nights now and again for work. Aziraphale learned later that the increasingly frequent overnight work trips and sleeping at the office were the start of his multiple infidelities. He felt like such an idiot when he looked back on that in particular. When he challenged Gabriel about the several thousand dollars he found, his husband had rolled his eyes and simply said “How do you think I afford all those lunches you like in the Apex so much, honey?” Aziraphale had been utterly shocked. The argument that followed had been horrendous and he had been left in no doubt that his role was to shut up and look nice. Gabriel had told him that as they both rose through the ranks of their respective professions they would be able to change things but for now, this was how it was in Sanctuary and he needed to shut up about it. Aziraphale has subsequently refused to go to any fancy lunch or weekend away unless Gabriel showed him how it was being paid for. This led to so many arguments and to an increasing frostiness that quickly permeated the entire relationship. A year later, he found out about Beez. He was livid. Gabriel swore that it was a one-off but Aziraphale knew that was another lie. By that point, he didn’t particularly want Gabriel anywhere near him so if Beez kept him out of his bed it was fine. Then he found out about Jim and some of the others. They agreed that the affairs were acceptable once they were discrete but Aziraphale demanded that the bribes stop. Gabriel had agreed, once Aziraphale agreed to continue to put on a good public face. He was running for Mayor and needed the appearance of a happy domestic life. In what was, up until the previous Saturday, been the stupidest thing he had ever done, Aziraphale had agreed.

Once Gabriel was elected, Aziraphale had hoped that his promise of making positive changes would be kept but he was disappointed again. Gabriel had endless excuses about how it took a long time and a lot of effort to change things but it was clear that the corrupt system suited him very well and he had no intention of changing it. Aziraphale started working more and avoiding his husband. He was promoted and was developing a reputation as an excellent, if ridged, investigator.

One evening a year or so later, his team received an anonymous tip about an illegal deal being done at the docks that would, he hoped, resolve a tricky case they had been working on for months. He was sure arms were being smuggled into the city by the docks but they never quite managed to arrive in time to catch the gang in action. That evening, the call came in to Hastor and they raced to the docks and caught the gang red-handed. Aziraphale led the team that arrested a group of men involved in arms dealing and the city official who had been helping them avoid police attention. Initially, he was pleased with the events of the evening but when he started to go through all of the paperwork he recognised a name because he had heard Gabriel shouting about the man on many occasions. Gabriel’s chief political rival had been swept up with the arrests following those on the docks and it appeared that he was the political contact protecting them. The man claimed he was set up and had nothing to do with the deal but the evidence was overwhelming. Hastor had found emails, paperwork and the man’s fingerprints were literally on some of the weapons. They were awash in more evidence than they knew what to do with and the judge and prosecutor were thrilled. Aziraphale and Hastor were both commended and Aziraphale was furious. He knew a set up when he saw one but could prove nothing – because of course he couldn’t when his partner was the one who had planted the evidence. He accused Hastor and the row that followed was still talked about in the precinct. Uriel had intervened and suspended them both. In the end, they were told they were never working together again but nothing else changed. Later he found out that Beez had pressured Uriel to leave it alone.

Gabriel had been thrilled and thanked him for his work. The smug grin on his husband’s face was all the proof he needed. Gabriel didn’t even have the decency to deny that he had arranged the tip off and just shrugged. “What’s the point of having you work in the police if I don’t make use of it?” That was the beginning of the end and Aziraphale had filed for divorce shortly afterwards. Gabriel did not take it well. He viewed it as a betrayal and made it clear to Aziraphale that he would pay for his disloyalty.

From then on, Aziraphale started making a list of everything he suspected Gabriel of doing.  Bribes were hard to prove when they were cash and political favours were always explainable. Aziraphale knew he part owned the Swamp but couldn’t prove any connection to the prostitution that went on there in the background. He knew he took a cut though, just like the protection rackets like those run by Hastor and Ligur. Over time, he gathered enough information to show that Gabriel was indeed involved in bribes, intimidation and hints of worse but suspected that no one would care.

The Waterfront had been where he finally got hard evidence because recently Gabriel seemed to be being less careful and more rushed to get things done. Aziraphale didn’t know why, but something had changed about two years ago and the Mayor seemed both to think he was untouchable and be in a hurry to get things done. Aziraphale had passed information to the state district attorney’s office showing that money was missing from government funds and the likely place that it had gone and he knew a prosecution was pending but it was the Waterfront where he had finally gotten real evidence, evidence that could end Gabriel and Beez both.

He had a witness who was willing to go on record to confirm that some of Gabriel’s men had threatened business owners who didn’t want to sell along the Waterfront. Even better was the video evidence that caught Gabriel himself standing in the shadows but perfectly illuminated by an unexpectedly bright night as his men bet the crap out of one of the owners who didn’t want to sell.  Gabriel could be seen moving forward and speaking to the man before slapping him, laughing and leaving.  He had also gathered copious evidence of drug dealing all along the property owned by Gabriel. He had it all and he just needed to send it to the right prosecutor.

He had arranged to meet the prosecutor he trusted but she never arrived. He found out a few hours later that she had been in a car accident. He knew that she had been murdered. The next day, his witness had been found dead in one of the back alleys near the Waterfront having apparently suffered a drug over-dose. His other informant had disappeared. Knowing that it was all falling apart, Aziraphale took desperate action and tried to get a judge to issue a warrant to search the mayor’s computers and to search the hospital’s admission records. The judge pushed him for reasons, which was fair but he knew he was taking a risk. When he finally said he suspected the mayor of drug dealing, bribery and murder and that the Chief was hushing it up, he’d found himself the subject of an investigation by internal affairs.  The judge was in Gabriel’s pocket and presented it as Aziraphale being a vengeful ex-husband.

He was suspended again and arrived home to his trailer ransacked and his files gone. His desk in work had received similar treatment and when Uriel complained she was told that internal affairs had plenty of time on their hands to investigate other members of the precinct if necessary. He finally told Uriel everything and she looked horrified but without evidence there was nothing that either of them could do. He asked her to look into the Waterfront – he knew he was right and that Gabriel and Beez were in whatever this was up to their necks – but she refused. He understood. She was terrified and had people who relied on her. He didn’t. He had less to lose. And so he had pushed again and found himself reduced to the beat and threatened with being fired if he didn’t apologise. And now he had no legal authority to even ask questions. But since legal authority didn’t bother anyone else in Sanctuary, perhaps it shouldn’t overly concern him either. Gabriel was not going to leave him alone, so he might as well try to figure out what was actually going on. The Waterfront finally came into view and he smiled slightly. It wasn’t illegal to walk around the area and ask a few questions.

***

Aziraphale arrived at the Waterfront slightly under his 90 minute estimate. It was a cold, clear day and there wasn’t much more than an hour or two of daylight left. Everything appeared quite. He wanted to look around and see which part of the development Gabriel was focused on.

He walked along the line of four and five story derelict buildings that sat right at the edge of the river. They went on for about a ten minute walk and there were two rows of other buildings that moved in from the river. The buildings further away from the river were not derelict and these were the ones that Gabriel had been trying to buy.  As he walked along the rows of buildings he was shocked at how empty the entire district was. Before, there had always been people – many of them up to trouble but still here. It was deserted. Gabriel must have scared off the last remaining property owners. He saw signs on the shops that should still be trading and most had something to the effect of “temporarily closed.” He frowned and turned back towards the line of buildings closest to the river. There were heavy tyre tracks leading to two of them. Cleary from large construction trucks and they had been bringing or taking heavy loads. He pushed one of the doors and, to his surprise it swung open.

Aziraphale looked around behind him and had the sense of being watched but he couldn’t see anyone and it was surely just the creepy atmosphere of the Waterfront being unusually deserted coupled with the slowly sinking winter sun. He shock himself mentally and slunk into the building.

Inside was dark and he could barely see anything. He considered for a moment and then, deciding that there was little point in him being here if he didn’t actually look properly, he took his phone out of his pocket and turned on the torch. The narrow beam of light fell across a row of large wooden boxes, balanced on crates. He walked towards the nearest one and tried to peer in between the slats of one of the boxes. He cursed softly. All he could see was stacks of rectangular boxes wrapped together in plastic. Whatever the boxes held, there were lots of them and they were not very large – maybe the size of a laptop. Was Gabriel buying laptops for some reason? He ran the torch light over the larger wooden box and crate and saw, confusingly, the name of the furniture company. This was very strange.

He sent the light from his phone across the large room but it held nothing beyond the row of wooden boxes. There was a door on the other side of the room. Aziraphale walked towards it but when he pushed it, it was locked. He looked at the bolt and considered trying to pick it but that seemed likely to cause problems. He didn’t need to be accused of a break in. The door had a gap at its hinges and he shone the phone through it. He could see nothing other than what was possibly a stairwell. He ran his left hand though his hair and then rubbed his eyes. The feeling of the building was starting to really bother him and he decided he’d seen enough. This was all baffling and he wasn’t going to figure it out now. He retreated quietly back out the open door and closed it softly behind him. He couldn’t help but lean against the outside of the building and sigh in relief. Whatever was going on here, it felt bad. He just didn’t know what it was.

He had clearly been in the building longer than he thought because the light was nearly gone. He decided that was enough for tonight. He still had a long walk home and he was tired. He took a deep breath and looked around once more. There were more tyre tracks but when he went to the other building, the door was locked. He shook his head and decided it was time to go. Before he left, he decided to walk down the line of buildings further from the river to check again if any of the shops that should still be trading were open. As he walked along, not one of them had so much as a light on. Gabriel must have won the last round of court battles. Or the threats had finally worked.

As he walked past the last alley between buildings he heard a low groan. “Hello!”

There was no response. Aziraphale reached for the gun he no longer had and cursed. He hoped this was only a bad idea and not a fatal one. He took his phone out again and turned the torch back on. He shone it down the alley and saw a crumpled heap beside a large skip bin. He ran down the alley and bent over the body. He shook the person slightly and bent down to speak into the casualty’s ears. “Hello! Can you hear me?” There was no response but he could feel a low and ragged breath. He quickly ran his hands along the back of the man’s neck and down his sides checking for any obvious damage to his spine and for anything problematic in his pockets. When there was nothing, Aziraphale, speaking softly and calmly to the man, moved him into the recovery position. When he had the man in position, he ran the torch over him and almost dropped it in shock. “Oh my god! Jeremy!” He clicked the torch off and called for an ambulance. He continued to talk softly in case Jeremy Wensleydale, his missing criminal informant, could hear anything. But as he looked him over he worried that he wouldn’t last very long. There was no blood but the bruising that he could see now that he was looking was devastating. Just before the ambulance arrived, Jeremey stopped breathing. Aziraphale was relieved of giving chest compressions shortly after he started and grilled by one of the emergency medical responders about what he had seen and done. By the time they left, Aziraphale had little to no hope for his informant. He stood looking at the ambulance lights fading into the background feeling entirely lost. A few minutes later, he began the walk home.

***

Two figures hugged the shadows and watched as Aziraphale examined the Waterfront properties and as he found the nearly dead Wensleydale. They watched him look after the ambulance and then, finally, depart.

“What do you think, Boss?”

“That he is a much larger problem than we have been led to believe. He’s much smarter than Gabriel gives him credit for and far more resilient. Then again, Gabriel isn’t being utilised for his brains. Are we sure he couldn’t be recruited? He’d be a much better option than Gabriel if we elevated him to mayor.”

“No chance, Boss. He’s absolutely not open to anything illegal.”

“Pity.”

“Em…”

“Yes?”

“He’s been seen with Crowley.”

“I know.”

“Twice.”

“The second time Gabriel was trying to exert his authority and sent Anthony to fetch him after we drugged him.”

“Yes but the argument out of the car looked… personal. We couldn’t get close enough to hear.”

“I’ll keep an eye on it. Anthony is my concern, not anyone else’s.”

“Yes Boss.”

***

Thursday morning

Loud banging on his trailer door woke Aziraphale at 7 am the following morning. He rolled out of bed, grabbed a dressing gown and opened the door to an absolutely furious Uriel.

“What the fuck are you doing? You’re fucking suspended and it’s everything I can do to keep it like that and not have you fired! Why – WHY – can you not just stay out of trouble for five fucking minutes?

“Good morning Captain. Would you like to come in and not terrify my neighbours?” He stepped back to let her storm inside. She sat down at the small kitchen counter and glared at him.

“Explain.”

He flicked on the kettle and sighed. “I was out for a walk and ended up at the Waterfront where I unexpectedly came across a man who appeared to have been severely beaten. I called the emergency services and provided assistance until they arrived.”

She pursed her lips and continued to glare at him. “That’s a Hell of a walk.”

“Well, you see Captain, I have found myself, unfortunately, with a lot of time on my hands. Tea or coffee?”

“Fuck Aziraphale. Coffee. Please.” She was chewing her cheek and looking like she was considering punching him. “Right. That’s more or less what I said when your name came up. Gabriel is throwing a fit and Kane wants you fired. I have pointed out that you did nothing wrong and likely saved that young man’s life.”

“Is he ok?”

“Oh no, but he’s still alive. He was beaten within an inch of his life and he needs surgery. But he might still pull through. It was definitely an attempted murder. And don’t pretend you don’t know him. He was your CI down there, wasn’t he? He worked in the lighting shop until it shut a few weeks ago.”

Aziraphale nodded. “One of several and the only one still in Sanctuary and alive as far as I know.”

“Gabriel is suggesting that you were the one who beat him – saying that it is because he wouldn’t support your assertions of threats and intimidation.”

Aziraphale nodded again. “That makes sense.”

“No it bloody doesn’t!” Shouted Uriel startling Aziraphale. She was usually stoic to an infuriating level.

“I meant,” said Aziraphale levelly, “that it makes sense from Gabriel’s perspective. It’s a good excuse to try to get rid of me and with no witnesses, if Wensleydale dies, its murder with quite a lot of circumstantial evidence and a lot of people who want me gone. It makes sense.”

“Aziraphale this is so bad. You have got to back off. And the only reason that you are not being arrested is that Gabriel’s prick of a lawyer seems to think that it would be incredibly stupid. Proving that he is at least smarter than his boss.”

“What?” Aziraphale was shocked. Why would Crowley not jump at this chance?

“I think he’s waiting on the outcome. They know you didn’t do anything other than help and if Wensleydale pulls through, he will be able to confirm that. The lawyer is smart enough not to be made out to be a liar, it appears.”

“What do you know about Crowley? You have contacts in Chicago, you must have asked by now.”

Uriel smiled. “Of course. He’s considered pretty much the best there is and he is seriously expensive. No one other than the real top end mobsters and politicians can afford him. But he very seldom loses and when he does it is usually because his client didn’t do what they were told. Apparently he has it worked into his contract that if clients aren’t doing as he says, he walks.”

“Holy shit,” said Aziraphale.

“Yeah. And he flatly refuses to touch anything to do with sexual assault, for some reason. Someone in Chicago was hung out to dry because they lied about that. No one can prove it, of course, but it appears that he gave everything – literally everything – to one of the prosecutors on a client who had assaulted someone and demanded that Crowley get him out of it. The entire organisation was mopped up. So people don’t cross him. He’s absolutely ruthless.”

“What’s his problem with sexual assault?”

Uriel gave him a penetrating stare. “Probably the same as yours or mine. He’s a scumbag but he apparently has some lingering sense of morality. He won’t do anything to protect anyone who has hurt kids either. Oh,” and she laughed here, “and he’s a reputation as a bit of a slut. He apparently likes to pick up a guy the night before he starts a new job, has a good time and then seems disinterested for however long the job lasts. He apparently never goes back for a second time.”

Aziraphale was horribly aware that he was now bright red.  He kept his back to Uriel as he made the coffee and hoped the colour would fade from his face before he had to turn around.

“This was a source of some amusement in Chicago but from what I’ve heard from a friend in New York, there is something more about this. I don’t know what. With his issues around defending sexual crimes, maybe he has a personal history or something.”

Aziraphale’s heart twisted at the thought of anything like that happening to Crowley and hoped it wasn’t the case. He tried to tell himself that of course he felt that about anyone and he did. But... He took a breath and handed Uriel a cup of coffee.

“Are you ok? You’re a bit red. You might want to take it easy for a few days, Az. You’re putting yourself through a lot.”

“I will. Do you want to know what I know or do you just want to pretend that I’ll leave it alone?”

She drank the coffee and sighed deeply. “Tell me. I might be able to help but you know I can’t take too many risks.”

“I know.” He started to talk her through what he had seen at the Waterfront and she looked increasingly worried. He trusted her a little, not entirely but more than almost anyone else in the precinct.

As he talked Uriel through what he knew his mind wandered to Crowley again. He didn’t understand him at all. If he had set Aziraphale up, surely he would have suggested arresting him or at least having him questioned about Wensleydale. He could be questioned purely based on being at the Waterfront last night. That wouldn’t be a problem but he had clearly stamped even that out. Why? And then the idea of a mob lawyer with morals was just so strange. He knew many of them held their clients in absolute contempt but that didn’t stop them defending them from the most heinous crimes. But apparently Crowley had some lines he wouldn’t cross. That didn’t seem right either. He tried to push the lawyer from his mind but he knew he would only succeed for a while. What he really wanted to know was why he had asked him to meet again when he was known to avoid second trysts with his pre-work shags. He must have been trying to set Aziraphale up. Surely? But then Crowley’s pleas and agonised expression when they argued outside the car rose from his recent memory and he wondered. He was missing something with Crowley, but he really didn’t know what. As he said goodbye to Uriel, who promised to keep an eye out for anything related to the Waterfront if he promised to stay out of trouble, he wondered – had he, inexplicably, been unfair to Crowley? He spent the rest of the day writing up notes from the previous evening and trying to look into the furniture company.

Chapter Text

Three years ago: Chicago

Crowley stood looking at the giant bean and tilted his head trying to decide whether he liked it or thought it was ridiculous. He couldn’t. Somehow it was both. It was impressive – huge and beautiful and reflected the city and sky marvellously – but it was, well, a giant bean. Its official name was Cloud Gate and that just made it even more confusing.

“It’s more impressive at night,” said a soft and unexpected female voice. He managed not to jump and kept his eyes towards the bean.

“Witch, what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting a check-in.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the young woman move slightly closer but she did not look directly at him. She was wrapped in several long layers of dark greens and purples against the winter chill and her long black hair fell down her back in waves. She appeared focused on the phone in her hand. Crowley could never quite age her. He had thought that they were about the same age when they met years before but she had considerably more experience than her apparent age suggested she should. They had played a besotted couple on more than one occasion for a few early jobs and he had thought they were both just doing what they were told, not that she had been assessing him.

“I’m here to make sure you remember who you really work for, Anthony.” She drew his name out to annoy him.

“Crowley,” he replied, “and as long as the cheques are making their way into my account at home, you don’t have anything to worry about.” He sensed her tense. She objected to his financial motivation but he didn’t care. She could be as high and mighty as she wanted. He knew that she was very well compensated for her role. He’d looked. She huffed and pulled her long scarf around her tightly. He made sure his smirk was only internal.

“You didn’t tell us you were moving to Chicago.”

“Didn’t have much time or any choice in the matter. I was planning on letting you know once I was a bit more set up.”

“You’ve been here for three months.”

He sighed. “I suppose I have. I was hoping it would be a short-term relocation but that doesn’t seem likely anymore.”

“And you seem to have found clients easily.”

He smiled. “Oh yeah. After the last few years in New York, they’re delighted to have me here. The local big wig, Dagon, has plenty of work and very deep pockets, so that’s been easy. They listen to, so it should be simple enough work. I’ve got a few other more minor jobs but it’s certainly not been difficult to find clients here.” He laughed. “Actually, it’s a lot easier than New York was. I’m a free agent now so I can work for anyone. And the corruption is absolutely rampant. Easy pickings.”

“Wonderful,” she said sarcastically. “And do you know why Lucas has kicked you to the curb?”

He flinched. That was not what had happened. “He hasn’t. I don’t know what happened but he’ll come back for me when he’s ready.”

“You better hope so or it’s going to be much harder to do what you are supposed to be doing. Have they been in touch yet?”

He nodded.

“And?” The woman was clearly getting increasingly irritated. “Lucas is not our target. He’s the bait. What have they said? You’re years trying to get their attention and now you have it as you’ve lost his.”

Crowley’s face reddened and he felt his heart twist. Lucas would be back for him. He had promised. “They got in contact a few weeks before I left New York. I’m letting them seduce me – don’t want to move too fast or it will look like I was never Lucas’ man. And you don’t want that, do you? Not after all the effort we have put in over the last few years. I expect a more formal offer in the next few weeks.”

The loudly exhaled breath confirmed his statement. “You work for us, Crowley. Not Lucas. And certainly not them. I don’t care who is paying you more. I am increasingly concerned that you are compromised. I need to know. If you are, you’ll be on a flight home tonight. We can sort that out. It happens when…”

He cut her off irritably. “Lucas is not a problem.” He’s the love of my life and I need to see him. How can he have sent me away?! “This is all what we planned when I met him – give or take. He’s the ideal bait and it’s finally working. Don’t be such a fool to pull me away now. I’ve enjoyed playing my part but that’s what it is – a part.”

Another deep breathe from his companion and he felt like he was awaiting judgement. He wasn’t leaving, no matter what she said. “Fine. As you say, he’s not our target. But he is their target. Which, as you say is the whole point. You know what they will want and how dangerous this will get.”

He nodded.

“I’m going to need more regular check-ins.”

“That’s not how I work. You know that. You set it up that way. Either you trust me to get this done, or you don’t. If you don’t, book the flight but make sure it’s first class. I’m not slumming it.”

She growled in frustration but he was right and she knew it. “There will be more regular, but still sporadic check-ins but I’m not pulling you. You’re the only one who has gotten this close. And we need to bloody know what is going on.” This time, Crowley let the smirk appear on his lips.

“Like I tell everyone, I’m absolutely worth what I charge. Same goes for you and you get me the cheapest.”

“You need to let me know when they make proper contact and when you’re in. It’s going to take years to get access to what we need but you will if you ever want to come home again. Well if you want to come home and see outside of a top security prison anyway. What happened with Lucas? This change of venue is less than ideal.”

Crowley’s mind drifted back twelve weeks earlier when Lucas had dropped his bombshell.

Crowley walked into the penthouse looking at his stack of papers and not paying attention. “Lucas! I need to ask you about some of this. I think we’ve someone skimming payroll in one of the clubs and that fool we pay on the subway needs a quiet chat. He’s messing the lads around. Lucas? Love are you here?”

He finally focused on the apartment and heard the sounds of movement from the spare room. He walked in feeling concern surge through him. Lucas never ignored him. Lucas was packing somewhat frantically.

“Lucas? What… what are you doing?”

Lucas spun around and glared at him with wild eyes but the glare reduced as he recognised Crowley.

“Anthony! Ok, it’s only you. Anthony, you are going to have to listen to me and do exactly – EXACTLY – what I say. Yes?”

Crowley nodded, now terrified.

Lucas moved towards him and gently cupped his face in his hands, looking down at him slightly. “Darling, I have to go and I cannot explain it all now. There are some things you don’t know – no red lines, don’t worry – but bigger plans. Incredible plans. I’m leaving and you are too. You are going to Chicago. You will do there what you have done here but independently. Make as many contacts and friends as you can. We may need them but what is important is that you appear to be away from me, a free agent. I will call you when I’m ready, but darling, it will be a while. Possibly a few years.”

“What?” Crowley didn’t understand what he was hearing. “What I have I done wrong?! Lucas, please! Don’t send me away. I’ll come with you. Anywhere. Please!” The hands on his face tightened, almost painfully.

“Do not challenge me. You have done nothing wrong but you need to go. Today. The FBI is going to raid us and we need to be long gone when they do. They won’t find anything on you and nothing much directly tied to me but there is too much to move here.  Anyway, I was nearly done with New York, so it’s inconvenient but nothing more. You’ve done a marvellous job with the finances so we’re not losing anything important and I have all that I need politically here sorted. I need to move to the next stage now and for that, you need to be elsewhere. I don’t have time to explain to you. I will, but not now. You can go to Chicago and lay low or, if you want to help, do as I ask and set yourself up there. Say I ended our relationship or you did, I don’t care which as long as people believe it. When I’m ready, I’ll call you back. Do you understand?”

Crowley didn’t understand at all. He couldn’t help but feel that he was being rejected again but he didn’t know why this time. He felt his eyes fill with tears. He nodded. He was enfolded in Lucas’ arms and being kissed passionately before he realised that the other had moved at all. “You’re mine Anthony, this is not a rejection. It is a necessity. I will call you back. I promise. If you agree to this, agree to remain mine then these are the terms. I know you will need distraction and comfort. I won’t begrudge you that while we are parted but you are not to make attachments – never see the same person twice. You know what will happen if I find out you have taken to someone else beyond a brief physical association, yes?” Crowley nodded into Lucas’ chest. He didn’t want anyone else. He hadn’t looked at anyone else in six years and he knew Lucas hadn’t either.

“Lucas, please. Why are you doing this?”

Lucas stepped back but kept Crowley in his arms. “I have to. Do you think I would separate us on a whim? You’re mine and I will reclaim you but for now, for the next few years, do as I ask. And I ask that you take a few lovers – you need to be seen as separate from me. It will protect you and let you move freely. I will explain in time. Everything you do, you do for us now.”

There was another brief kiss and then Lucas’ man Ricky was in the room, moving the few bags Lucas had packed and ushering him out. Lucas turned back and said “Leave today, darling. I’ll see you again.”

Crowley stood looking at the penthouse in despair, not understanding what had happened to his well-ordered life of less than 30 minutes before.

“What happened with Lucas? The feds caught up with him. He, foolishly, hadn’t told me everything and they found some breadcrumbs that gave them enough to get a warrant and search everything – the bar, hotel, offices – everything. So he ran. I have no idea where. He didn’t tell me to protect me. I’m clean, obviously, so I’ve had a few visits but nothing more. Officially, I came here to get away from the mess in New York before it damaged my reputation and I’m so annoyed with Lucas that I won’t work for any of his lieutenants. Unofficially, he told me to come here and set up independently. He’ll be back. But I don’t know when or what his actual plan is. Sometimes, I don’t think he’ll stop until he’s running the damn country – or one of his tame politicians is.”

The woman nodded. “We don’t know either. He is a problem, but not ours. You know what to do now.”

“Yes, I do. And I will.”

She smiled slightly. “That’s what I was hoping. There is a small box under the edge of the bean. Take it when I’m gone and replace the watch you’re wearing with the one in the box. Don’t worry – it’s as obnoxious and flashy as the one you currently have.”

Crowley twitched. Lucas had given him the watch he was wearing and he didn’t want to surrender it for another. “And what is so special about this new watch?”

“You can communicate with us though it and there is a small device underneath. When you get into position, turn it on and we will have access to everything in five minutes. The little white light will move down slightly when we’re in. That’s all you have to do. Destroy the instructions once you understand how it works.”

“I’m not wearing a fucking tracker and a bug for the next several years, Witch. I’m not. I’ll keep it but I’m not wearing it all the damn time.” She pursed her lips again. “You need to get it inside their offices and then you can do what you damn well like with it.”

“Not the first time. They’ll be watching for that. Just fuck off and let me do my job. I’ll get them. But it’s going to take time.” Hopefully enough time for Lucas to come back and get me. Then I can be rid of the whole bloody lot of you. But he could never tell Lucas any of this. Never.

“I don’t like being managed, Witch. That’s part of the reason I took this job. I know what you want. I’ll get it done. I’ll keep in contact in the usual way and you can pop up or send a minion as and when you want once it doesn’t attract attention. But leave me to do this my way. Oh and I’m not fucking compromised. Don’t fucking insult me. I know what I’m doing.”  He turned on his heel and walked off. He knew she was glaring at him as he left. He smiled when he got back to his hotel an hour or so later to a package that contained a fancy watch he had no intention of wearing. The one Lucas had given him was much nicer and far less likely to get him in trouble with his target. He spent the evening digging the little device out from underneath the new watch and putting it under his current one. That would have to do the Witch. He gave the other watch to a homeless guy a few days later and never thought about it again.

Two weeks later, Crowley was sitting in an upscale coffee shop near the museums reading a newspaper when a tall, dark-haired woman dressed in grey loomed over him.

“May I sit?”

“Why?”

“Because I think you and I have things to discuss. Things that could get you in a lot of trouble, unless you want to be of service to your adopted country, that is. And you have been avoiding other efforts to communicate.”

He folded his paper and regarded the woman calmly. “I suppose you better sit down then and tell me how much trouble you think I’m in. What do I call you?”

“You can call me Michael,” they said, as they showed him FBI identification. Crowley scrunched his face, slightly concerned. FBI was not what he was after.

“I’ve already spoken to you lot… what… five times now? You don’t have anything on me, can’t prove anything – because I don’t actually do anything illegal – that’s my superpower, you see? I play your game and am much better at it than you. And if you want to know where my ex is, I couldn’t bloody tell you. He fucked off without me.”

They regarded him levelly and took out another piece of identification. Crowley carefully kept his face neutral and then purposefully confused. “What the fuck is this?”

“I’m not here to ask you the whereabouts of Lucas Morningstar. We know that he’s in Mexico. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough on him to do anything and you are, as you say, clean as a whistle.”

“I’d never say that,” Crowley muttered dismissively.

They leaned forward and glared at Crowley. “You’re a scumbag, Crowley. You have helped Morningstar launder millions, bribe and threaten his way through New York and set up any number of criminal enterprises but we can’t prove anything. And now you’re here in Chicago, without him but seemingly setting up on your own. You will fuck up and land yourself in trouble. Why are you here? Why haven’t you gone back to England?”

“Don’t want to. Have a green card. Fuck off.”

“Green cards can be revoked.”

Crowley sat forward and glared at Michael. “What do you want?”

“I know you were the one who contacted the FBI, who set the raid in motion. What do you think Morningstar would do if he found out? Because I don’t think you’d last a week, even with him in Mexico.”

Crowley shook his head, feeling slightly panicked. Even a rumour like that could lead to him being found under one of the L’s bridges. “It wasn’t me. I don’t know who it was but I know it wasn’t me. Because that’s not what I was planning. I didn’t want Lucas targeted. I wanted his business partner. But I wasn’t quite ready when the raids started. Marcus was the one I wanted out of the picture and that’s who I gave information to the FBI on. Not Lucas.” How the fuck did they know it was me in the first place?

“How’s the arm?” Michael asked viciously.

Crowley swallowed. “Fine. It was a clean break and has had a year to heal.”

“Surgical from what I heard. How can you possibly want to protect him? He will kill you eventually. You’re a scumbag but a very clever one. You have to know that. You will do something wrong, something minor and he will bloody kill you.”

Crowley sighed and leaned back. “Why do you think I’m in Chicago and not Mexico? I took the opportunity and I left. I don’t know what he’s up to but it no longer involves me. If you know about the arm, you know about… well… I’m assuming you know that I’ve been… branching out… romantically speaking. Lucas and I are done.”

Michael pursed their lips and regarded him. “He will be back and when he comes back, you will be in the firing line. You cannot protect yourself from him. Particularly not if he finds out you were planning on selling out one of his business partners. I can protect you. But not for free.”

Crowley twisted his lips and appeared to consider this. “What does that mean?”

“You’re going to work for me. I pretty much want everyone you work for but that’s not tenable and Morningstar is my actual target, but if you can cause any of the mob here in Chicago to swing, send them to me. I work under the guise of the FBI but, as I have shown you, that’s not my only agency. I want Morningstar and whoever he is working with. When he is back, you are going to be bait. Do you understand? Otherwise, you’ll probably just be a meal. I can and will protect you if you do what I say.”

“You want me to be a bloody spy?”

“Very dramatic. Officially – or rather unofficially – you’ll be an informant and you will go about your life as normal. If you’re caught, we will not admit to any knowledge of your existence or that we ever had any interaction. I will be in contact with you when you’re needed and you will be able to contact me if you need to. It will be very low key. In fact, you’re unlikely to meet me again for years.”

“What does it pay?”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Seriously? You will have protection that no money could buy! And it’s… you’d be helping us get a very dangerous man off the street – it’s the right thing to do! You want a salary?”

“I don’t work for free and I’m worth what I charge. You want Lucas. That’s painful for me but I want to keep breathing, so I’m willing to help. But not for nothing. You can have my lowest retainer, if that’s any good. It’s on my website. Maybe you should run along and work out the numbers. I know the budgets have been tight the last few years. Maybe you can’t afford me.”

He smirked happily as he watched them leave. He couldn’t appear too keen.  A few days later, Michael reappeared with a thin smartphone and a long-winded explanation of the various “agency” apps that were part of it. Text messages starting with a vowel meant the opposite of what they contained, consonants were for a straight forward message and anything starting with an h was an emergency. There were a few key phrases for particular situations but nothing else. He had raised an eyebrow at this nonsense but took the phone. It was all very American. The bug sweeper intrigued him and some of the other features were going to be useful too. They agreed to a reasonable retainer to be deposited every three months into the account he specified. He smiled and promised to be a good boy until Lucas got back in contact. He liked being paid several times for the same job. Things could be worse.

Present Day

Week 1: 11 pm Friday evening

Crowley was unconsciously eating his way through a large bag of popcorn and totally engrossed in his work. He was looking at the papers relating to accusations of bribery and threats towards property owners on the Waterfront. Quite a lot of it was damning but there was nothing he couldn’t manoeuvre into either lesser charges that would result in a fine or have struck out on the first hearing. He smiled as he found what he was looking for. One of the juniors had filed the wrong form. That was another accusation out entirely – why they didn’t pay closer attention to the paperwork was beyond him. He crossed accusation 12 off his list. It was easy but long. There were so many problems here and this was just the start of the Waterfront issue.

He had been shocked when he learned that Aziraphale had been poking around the Waterfront on Wednesday. He was equally impressed and frustrated with him. He really just wasn’t going to let this go but that made things considerably more complicated for Crowley. He had at least gotten Gabriel to back off about trying to frame him for the murder of a still living man. Gabriel was an idiot but a dangerous one. Crowley couldn’t understand why Lucas would be involved with him – if he was. Lucas picked competent partners. Usually.

His heart rate increased at the thought of Lucas. He was sure he was involved and possibly even nearby. The thought terrified him. He didn’t know how he would react if he saw him again. He’d spent a lot of the last three years trying to figure out what Lucas was doing that he hadn’t told him and it was all as clear as mud. His name had been almost entirely scrubbed from anything that might have even a hint of illegality about it – though to be fair, Crowley had been ensuring that for years – but it was more. He had started to appear as a hushed up donor for a lot of worthy causes – children’s hospitals, food banks, cheap medical centres in deprived areas. It was hard to find his name attached to the projects but it was possible. Crowley wondered if he was planning a political career but surely that would place him too much in the spotlight. He didn’t know. It made no sense to him. Other rumours floated to him from his various connections – that Lucas was no longer avoiding the drug industry the way he used to, that demon was his new money maker coming out of Florida and slowly spreading like a cash-printing malignancy across the country, that he had virtually every mob or criminal organisation on the east coast under his thumb. Crowley was terrified of him. It had taken a while but he realised in Chicago that he had always been terrified of Lucas. The distance of the last few years had clarified some things for him and made him see the things that had been wrong between them. He shouldn’t have been terrified to upset him or damage a good mood. He shouldn’t have feared what Lucas would do to anyone who upset him. So much of it had not been right, but he’d been too in love to see it. He was locked in now though. He couldn’t run. He had to see this through to the end. Whatever that might look like. And if Lucas found out about his side-lines – well, Crowley would die.

Crowley shook his head in exasperation at the mess he had gotten himself into and went back to his list. He had five of the 24 accusations fully crossed off for minor clerical errors, another two for mistakes in how statements had been taken and another seven were not going to carry any weight. That left ten to be dealt with. He looked at the list and considered all of the mistakes from the local prosecutor’s office. There were far too many. No one could be this incompetent. Aziraphale was right. Gabriel had most of the city in his pocket. This was deliberate. He felt a flash of guilt knowing that he was looking at some of the evidence the cop wanted so badly and he was using it to help get Gabriel off charges. God Aziraphale had become a serious problem for him. Feeling guilty? This was ridiculous. The cop wouldn’t even look at him. But this was useful. Management would want to know. Gabriel wasn’t the target but they might still need to go through him to get to Lucas.

He added this to the notes he was making in his head. He needed to know why Gabriel wanted all of this property so badly. Yes, it was nice real estate but it wasn’t that good. There had to be another reason. And it was all utterly beneath Lucas – if he was involved there was something more. He made an actual note to get the real plans, not the ones that had gone into the planning department so he could see what they might be trying to hide. He needed to go and look at the place soon.

He continued on through his list and after another hour had passed he had only three accusations that had even a small possibility of making it to court and he was leaving two of them that way because it would be fun to take on the local prosecutors. He sat back and smiled. He turned his attention to Gabriel’s personal emails and started going through them again. He started with a search for the furniture company that had aroused his suspicions earlier. A lot of emails popped up. He started scrolling through them and trying to find connections. Something was up with this company and its crazy delivery charges. He saw an email that alluded to a meeting the following week. A few minutes of thinking and trying different simple cyphers and he had the date, time and location of the meeting at the Waterfront. Gabriel really wasn’t being careful enough. He loved this. He loved finding the little hints and trails that would lead to knowing more – unravelling the mystery and pulling at the secrets until they yielded to him. He adored the obscure patterns that took days, weeks or sometimes longer to see but once the pattern appeared it was obvious and he would know everything. This was when he loved his job.

He moved some papers around and jumped as someone spoke, quickly closing the window with the email account.

“Working late? There’s not much point in me paying for the Apex if you don’t ever use the bed.”

Crowley looked up frowning and sent his tongue after a wayward kernel stuck between his teeth. “You’re pretending to pay for the Apex and actually paying for me to work. So I’m working. I keep my own hours. Once the job gets done, what do you care if I sleep?”

Gabriel moved further into Crowley’s office and smiled down at him. “I never said anything about sleep.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, thought Crowley, not again. But Aziraphale’s words drifted back to him and he wondered just how much of a problem Gabriel was going to be.

“I’m busy. Doing what you’re paying me to do. I don’t like an audience.”

Gabriel was now lounging against Crowley’s desk on the same side as him. Crowley suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable.

“An audience can be fun, sometimes. But I prefer to keep the first time private. You’re paid to do whatever I ask.” Gabriel leaned towards him, trying and failing to be seductive.

“In terms of your legal problems, nothing else.”

Crowley pushed his chair back and glared up at Gabriel. He could smell alcohol now that the man was so close but he clearly wasn’t actually drunk. Enough alcohol to pretend to be drunk, if needed. Crowley was familiar with that particular trick, though not for the end that Gabriel was aiming at.

“We’ve already spoken about this. I’m not interested and I don’t sleep with people who have contracted my professional services. You can ask around. It’s well known. It is not going to happen.”

Without warning, Gabriel lunged at him and pulled him to his feet by his jacket lapels. Crowley’s eyes widened in shock. He had not expected actual physical violence. Gabriel stood taller than him and out-weighted him by several stone that was all muscle. His heart rate increased and he felt actually afraid of the other man for the first time. Gabriel pulled him close, still holding his jacket. “I’d like this to be pleasant for both of us. But it doesn’t have to be.”

Oh fuck! Crowley’s mind raced. What the fuck was he going to do? He could, he supposed follow Aziraphale’s caustic advice and just let it happen without any enthusiasm but then what? And also fuck that! He moved his hands slowly up Gabriel’s side and rested them on his shoulders. He gave him a soft, half smile. “Ok, fine. Relax. There’s always exceptions.” Gabriel smiled and moved his hands to stroke down Crowley’s tie. “Lovely. I want to see you, properly.” But the next sound in the room was Gabriel’s tight lipped scream as Crowley’s knee made contact with his balls. Crowley caught him and lowered him to the floor, using Gabriel’s own body to pin his arms beneath him. Crowley knelt over him, planting his knee and lower leg on Gabriel’s sternum. He increased the pressure on the groaning Gabriel and held him down with his leg and an arm across his throat. With his other arm, he pulled his pen knife from his jacket pocket and held it to Gabriel’s neck until a small bead of blood emerged. Crowley leaned in, bearing his teeth and snarled, “No means fucking no, Gabriel. And if I come across anything in the paperwork that suggests you have crossed that line before, I’m not helping you. That’s a red line for me.” He increased the pressure on the knife and a line of blood trickled across the blade and down Gabriel’s neck, staining his white shirt. “Now if I have to have this conversation with you again, I’m calling some of my friends and they will repeat the message but not in words. Do you fucking understand me?”

Gabriel tried to sneer but his eyes were wide and he was trying to see the knife. “You’ve no idea who you’re fucking dealing with you little shit. I can make phone calls too. And you probably don’t have as many friends as you think.”

“Mr Crowley, I have the… oh!” Crowley kneed Gabriel again as he got off him and looked up at Jim standing in the office door. Crowley starred at the assistant and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to slowly and deliberately clean the knife before putting it back in his jacket.

“Put the files on my desk and then take your drunk boss into his office. He’ll need some ice.”

Jim didn’t move so Crowley snapped his fingers and said, “Now!”

When Jim had pealed Gabriel off the floor and removed him, Crowley sat down and felt himself starting to shake. He needed a drink. He needed to get the fuck out of here. What the fuck is with him? He knows who knows me, who likes me. Who is he mixed up with that he can so easily threaten one of the criminal underworld’s favourite assets? He's a piss ant small fry mayor in a town that doesn’t matter! What the fuck am I involved with?

But he knew the answer. Lucas. And if Lucas found out what he just tried to do, Crowley would be the least of Gabriel’s problems. Gabriel didn’t have as many friends as he thought. Crowley felt his breath coming shorter and tried to calm himself. Now was not the time to panic. Now was the time to fuck off back to the hotel and get a decent drink.

About ten minutes later, he was shoving the papers into his briefcase. It was after midnight and he was leaving. He would work from the hotel tomorrow and he had some foot work to do over the next few days. That would keep him away from Gabriel and hopefully the moron would calm down before they were in the same room again. He gathered everything, including the new files Jim had brought and went to leave the office but found his way blocked by the assistant.

“Move, I’m not in the mood.”

Jim looked at him with worried eyes. “Are you ok?”

Crowley, who had been planning to shove the younger man out of his way, hesitated. “Yeah. It’s fine. He was drunk. It happens. Powerful men often have difficulty with the word no but I’m confident he can be taught.”

“He’s not usually like this. It’s all this stuff with his ex. It upsets him.”

Crowley looked at him levelly. “If humiliating his ex bothers him, then he should just not do it.”

“You don’t know Aziraphale. He’s impossible. There is no latitude with him – everything is black and white and he just keeps going on and on and on. Gabriel tried for years to keep that marriage together but Aziraphale just wouldn’t let anything go, wouldn’t accept the realities of politics, when he’d married a politician. Gabriel’s just upset at everything that’s happening. Aziraphale is still trying to make everything simple and getting in trouble. He should have fired him.”

“And I suppose you saw a whole lot of that marriage up close and personal? Were you hiding under their bed? I’m sure you were an excellent shoulder to cry on. Probably helped speed up your career too, right?”

Jim went red. “I think he still wants him back. No one else measures up to Aziraphale.”

How could they? Thought Crowley. For the briefest moment his mind drifted back to the feeling of Aziraphale moving with him, bodies gliding over each other, limbs embracing each other, lips pressed together as breath came faster and then struggled to come at all as trembling replaced thinking. How could anyone ever measure up to Aziraphale?

“Take some free advice Jim-boy. Don’t ever assume you know anything about anyone else’s relationship. And don’t put all your eggs in the Gabriel basket. He’ll hang you as soon as it’s convenient. I know you don’t think he will, but he absolutely will.” He had a horrible mental image of Gabriel behaving towards Aziraphale as he had just done to Crowley and there was no way that the cop would have pulled a knife to sort the problem out. Despite what he had just said, he had a terrible view of what some of that marriage might have looked like. He pushed past Jim and left.

Chapter Text

Week 2

11.30 pm Wednesday evening

Crowley resented the outside when it wasn’t paved. He had no interest in scrambling around woodlands and through undergrowth. Bloody plants, growing any which way they wanted – no manners! He liked well-behaved houseplants, not these unruly wild ones that scratched at his arms and legs, even thought they were covered. He detested wearing the scruffy sweatpants and hoody too but it was cold and he certainly wasn’t wearing anything good to do this.  And the mud was causing him to slip. He hated this but that was the problem with working alone. He didn’t have anyone he could send to do the literal dirty work.

He had scoped out the location at the weekend and knew where he was going. Just ahead, there was a perfect spot that would give him a clear view down to the Waterfront but keep him concealed in the bushes. It wasn’t as elevated or as far back as he would have liked, but it was the best he could do. He had his high powered telephoto lens and camera and was fully equipped to hopefully get some evidence of the illicit meeting that, thanks to Gabriel’s poorly secured emails, he knew was happening tonight. He scrambled through the bushes and cursed quietly as he slipped again and landed on his right knee, twisting awkwardly to avoid banging the camera. He froze as he felt the muzzle of a gun press into his lower back. Shit!

“What the fuck are you doing here?” hissed Aziraphale.

Oh thank god! Maybe.

“Are you going to shoot me or can I turn around and explain?”

“You can turn around but I seriously doubt you can explain.” The gun withdrew but when he turned around it was still pointed at him. Crowley thought better of trying to flirt his way out of this as much as he wanted to. Aziraphale looked pretty pissed off. “Emm… how much do you know?”

Aziraphale shook his head, “Oh no. You start talking and explain why you are dressed like a criminal – an obvious one not the boardroom crook you actually are – and crawling around in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night with what looks like a camera bag over your shoulder.”

“I do like it when you’re bossy you know? And that’s a nice try not-currently-Detective Fell but you’re suspended and didn’t you hand in your gun?” He really hadn’t meant to flirt but sometimes it was like breathing.

Aziraphale looked disconcerted but said, “I have a licence for this. Answer me.”

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Crowley said trying to project a confidence that he didn’t feel.

“No? It would solve a lot of problems for me if I did and you have pushed me to the point where it would be almost understandable.”

Crowley felt this wasn’t entirely fair. He hadn’t done anything on purpose and he had tried to explain that when he had retrieved Aziraphale from Chester but he supposed Aziraphale wouldn’t enjoy that line of discussion. Well, he suppsoed, the extension to Aziraphale's suspension was Crowley’s fault. But he'd been trying to keep him out of trouble - which was clearly working very well. He sighed.

“I’m not able to tell you. But I am here for what I suspect is the same reason as you. I want evidence of whatever is going to happen at that meeting on the Waterfront. I want to know who is there and I really want to know why they are all so invested in this particular piece of land.”

“And why is a high-priced whore, sorry lawyer, interested in any of this?”

Crowley glared at him, pursing his lips in anger and wishing that he could explain. “The meeting is going to start any minute. You can hold me here at gunpoint,” Crowley smirked at him slightly, “and I suppose I’m entirely at your mercy so you could do whatever you like to me or we can watch together.”

“You say that like you think we’re on the same side,” grumbled Aziraphale but he lowered the gun.

“Think about it as us temporarily not being on different sides. How about that?”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Hush.” Crowley knelt down and slunk under the bushes to the edge of the rise looking down at the Waterfront. Now that he was here for real, its proximity to where the meeting would take place felt even less ideal, but it was the best spot to see what was happening and provide some – if not much – cover. He took his camera and lens out and organised himself carefully. Aziraphale huffed, clearly irritated. “What now?” said Crowley.

“Nothing.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Don’t “nothing” me. What?”

“Everything about you is so fucking slick. Even your damn camera.”

“You didn’t mind slick the other weekend.” That got only a stony silence that Crowley supposed he deserved.

Aziraphale lay down beside him and took out a chunkier and much older camera. Crowley smirked again and resisted the urge to ask him if it used film. They both settled and looked out over the scene. As they lay there waiting for something to happen, Crowley tried desperately not to move closer, not to catch the smell of the man lying beside him. Twenty minutes later, people started to arrive. Soon, there were five men standing around and he knew them all. Every one of them worked for Gabriel in some capacity. Three of them worked in the mayor’s office. “Who’s that?” he asked Aziraphale as a smaller figure appeared. Even through the camera lens, he couldn’t quite make out who was under the furry hat and heavy coat.

“Beez,” sighed Aziraphale. They both clicked the cameras as she turned around conveniently showing enough of her face to be identifiable. Crowley’s lips pressed together in amusement. “And there’s Gabriel. I don’t know the guy with him.”

Reality lurched for Crowley as his vision blurred in terror and his stomach twisted painfully. The other man was tall, slim and had thick jet black hair and dark eyes. Crowley couldn’t see all this in the dark but he remembered. He remembered other things too – a toned body, gentle kisses and long, blissful nights spent coiled together. And threats and beatings and terror.  He swallowed and struggled to speak. “That’s… that’s Lucas Morningstar. He’s… terrifying.” And why Gabriel was so secure in threatening him. No one went against Lucas – not twice anyway. Then again if Lucas found out what Gabriel had tried to pull last Friday evening he’d never be seen again. Fuck! His breathing was rapid and he felt a cold sweat breaking out over his entire body.

“You know him?”

Crowley nodded.

“Yeah, let’s just say you’re not the only one with problematic ex’es. But Lucas is… he’s a psychopath. He’ll smile at you while he threatens you in the most personal, intimate ways and would slit your throat while explaining how it was for your own good. He’s exceptionally clever and utterly ruthless. And very, very well connected. Gabriel must be working for him. Oh fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck!” And he’s here. Now. And if he finds us, he’ll kill us. If we’re lucky. Fuck! If he sees me here, I’m dead. Crowley’s mind spun in panic and his breath was coming in rapid, stunted gasps. He knew Lucas was involved but he hadn’t expected to see him tonight, to be this close without warning. He hadn’t expected to be this terrified. He felt like Lucas would turn around and wave any moment; that he would sense his presence by magic. And what then? Would he want him back after all this time? Had he found out about his other job? What would he do to him? Crowley was terrified of him but he worried that once the other man snapped his fingers he would just come to heel like a trained dog. The worst part of it all was that part of him wanted that. To just go back, to stand beside him, safe as long as he did what he told. Even in the dark, Lucas projected strength and, Crowley was sure, was just as beautiful as ever. He felt the tug to the other man, the desire to be near him. Fuck. He started to shake.

“Crowley, shush. You’re making too much noise.”

He nodded and tried to control himself. If Lucas found him here, god knows what he would do to him. There was no good reason, from Lucas’ perspective, for him to be here. And he’d do worse to Aziraphale if he suspected Crowley held even the slightest affection for him. Oh fuck! What if Gabriel mentioned he was working from him! Did he already know? He must. He always knew. What if Lucas was the one who had demanded Gabriel hire him? Was Lucas who had really brought him to Sanctuary? Oh fuck… was this whole job Lucas calling me back? After all this time? FUCK! His breath was barely coming now and he could only take shallow gasps. His vision was blurring. He didn’t realise he was moving around so much, literally squirming in terror.

He felt a hand on his back. “Crowley calm down. Breathe. I’ve no idea who that is but we need to be quiet and not move around. They’re not stupid and they will be watching the high ground. You have to stay still and quiet.” The hand moved in slow circles around his back and he felt his breath come a little easier. Without meaning to, Crowley moved closer to Aziraphale who did not pull away.

“S… So… Sorry. I… I never imagined h… he would actually be here. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Look pictures of Gabriel and Beez with this Lucas guy are clearly evidence right? We have that now. Let’s lie here quietly until they’re gone.” Crowley nodded but his heart was thundering in his ears.

“Shit, do you hear that?” whispered Aziraphale a few minutes later.

Crowley did. Footsteps and hushed voices near them. He looked at Aziraphale in panic. His movement in the bushes must have been noticed. “Sorry Angel, you’ll have to forgive me but there’s only two possible reasons for two guys to be up here right now.”

“What’s the other one?”

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale and rolled on top of him, kissing him. There was a squeak of surprise but then Aziraphale kissed him back. He pulled the hood of Crowley’s sweater up over his head to cover his red hair and then pulled him close. A torch passed over their bush and Crowley momentarily broke the kiss to shout “Fuck off, get your own bush,” in a good American accent. Aziraphale laughed into his mouth as there were irritated grumbles and the torch light passed over them both and then retreated. Aziraphale pushed Crowley gently, but he didn’t move immediately. Instead, driven a little by fear and a lot by desire he kept kissing the beautiful man in his arms. The man he was increasingly convinced was the antithesis to Lucas. Aziraphale, angel that he was, sighed and let him. Crowley’s hand drifted down and hovered at his fly. He stopped for a moment and looked at Aziraphale. “Yes or no, Angel? Up to you.” Aziraphale sighed deeply, “yes,” he said softly.

A few minutes later, Crowley held a trembling Aziraphale in his arms and breathed him in. He felt slightly better but still deeply worried. “We should go,” he said. They’re gone now and I need to get the photographs to… someone else.”

“Who do you work for, Crowley?”

“Sorry Angel. I can’t tell you. But… but I’m not one of the bad guys, not really. Well I am sort of but not you know, not completely… it’s complicated.”

“So explain it to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why – if you did would you have to kill me?”

“No, but someone else might decide that they have to.”

Aziraphale rolled off him and glared at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I wish it was.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and moved his hand to the waist band of Crowley’s tracksuit. “I assume you’d like the favour returned?”

Crowley sat up, irritated. “That wasn’t transactional.”

“Sure it was. What else could it possibly be?”

Crowley compressed his lips in anger and stood up. “It’s time to go.” Aziraphale looked baffled by Crowley’s attitude.

“Alright,” he said.

They gathered the cameras and slunk back down the wooded bank. Crowley turned towards town and Aziraphale trailed after him. Five minutes later, Crowley stepped off the track and pushed some branches aside, revealing his car.

“Where are you parked?” he asked gruffly.

“I’m not. I walked. See you.” Aziraphale continued walking towards town. Crowley growled in irritation. “Get in the damn car. I’ll bring you home.”

“You can’t. Someone will be watching my home and if you’re seen dropping me off late at night, there will be questions. It’s not like the car is subtle.”

That was true but… “Get in the fucking car. I’ll bring you some of the way. It’s well over an hour’s walk from here. Just shut up and get it.”

“What is wrong with you? I get that seeing your ex, what was his name – Lucas – has unnerved you but you need to calm down.”

Crowley looked at him and shook his head. This really was his problem not Aziraphale’s. It was fine. He was being ridiculous. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything for him. How could he after what Crowley had done?

“Yeah, sorry. It’s… that’s it. He’s a real problem. Whatever you do, don’t go near him. Honestly, really, please stay away from Gabriel now. If he has Lucas backing him up there is nothing he won’t do. It’s better than having the protection of god. Lucas actually intervenes.”

They drove down the dirt track and then out onto the highway that circled the outskirts of the city.  Crowley could see Aziraphale looking at him with concern from the corner of his eye but thankfully he said nothing until Crowley pulled over to let him out.

“Look, em… thanks for the lift and all. There must something I can do for you, in return?”

“Shut up. It’s fine,” Crowley said. He nodded as Aziraphale got out of the car but his thoughts were now focused on the utter horror of Lucas being in Sanctuary. Everything that he had technically been aiming to do for years was suddenly potentially within grasp and if he did it, he could go home. But the theoretical danger was now very practical and far less entertaining in reality than it had been in imagination.

***

Aziraphale watched Crowley drive off and wondered at how bad Lucas could possibly be that he had unnerved the usually unflappable lawyer so much. He hadn’t gotten a really good look at the man but from what he had seen in the gloom, Lucas appeared to be exactly like what he imagined to be Crowley’s type – tall, well-built but slim and, Aziraphale imagined, devastatingly attractive. He moved like someone who knew that he was attractive and like someone who knew how to fight. He made Gabriel look clunky and slow. He sighed. He was disappointed Crowley hadn’t allowed him to reciprocate but then again it was probably easier to imagine he was Lucas if Crowley wasn’t looking at him. However terrified Crowley was, seeing the man had clearly excited him too. Aziraphale couldn’t imagine his mere presence having that sort of effect on anyone. He shrugged and began his walk home. He wondered if Uriel would look into Lucas if he asked her. He’d never heard of him but that wasn’t surprising. The captain, though, had contacts in the FBI who might know something. He texted her to ask and hoped she would do it without asking him too many questions in return.

Chapter Text

Week 2: Thursday

Crowley woke early the next morning, having slept only fitfully. Partly, he was sorry he hadn’t tried to convince Aziraphale to come back to the hotel with him or go somewhere else. But he knew that would be the height of stupidity. The detective, while clearly attracted enough to him, wasn’t actually interested. That was clear. And with Lucas here, Crowley was being watched because there was no way that Lucas was in Sanctuary and didn’t know that he was here too. If Lucas found out that Crowley had broken their agreement, even just the spirit of it, the repercussions would be horrendous. He needed to be sensible. He thought it was increasingly likely that Lucas was the reason Gabriel had reached out to him in the first place. His heart raced when he thought about this – meeting Lucas again seemed inevitable and he couldn’t decide how he felt about that. He wanted out – he wanted out so desperately that he had taken this job in the hope that it would lead to what he needed but that meant being near Lucas and he didn’t fully trust himself.

Management, on the other hand, were delighted. Lucas was in Sanctuary so there was a good chance that they could find out what he was doing and finally, finally get enough on him to arrest him. He was vulnerable right now because he was setting up again and didn’t have everything in place yet. Now was the time. Management, however, were not the ones who had to deal with him between now and the joyous sounds of police sirens. He wondered briefly if he should let his other people know that Lucas was here. But then who knew what they would do? It was better to try to keep this simple for now. He needed Management happy and convinced that he was doing what they wanted. Then he could get what he was really after. And then – finally – he could go home. He rubbed his bleary eyes in irritation, dragged himself out of bed and made a strong coffee. He was in court later in the morning and needed to focus. His mind, however, had other plans and drifted back to Lucas and then on to Aziraphale as he sipped the strong black liquid. Crowley wished he could tell Aziraphale even some of it but he couldn’t trust him. Aziraphale likely wouldn’t believe him and if he did, he’d never leave it alone. And he wanted to tell him for all the wrong reasons. He felt like a bloody school boy. He wanted Aziraphale to like him. Idiot. He’d settle for the cop hating him and staying alive. He’d have to. The thought that Aziraphale had only wanted to ‘return the favour’, as he put it, last night to keep things even between them had upset him. There was no affection there, nothing beyond a base desire in a stressful situation, and he needed to get over it. It was his problem. He glared at the empty coffee cup and poured another.

Several coffees and a shower later, he had his brain wrangled to focus on the court case. He arrived at the courthouse an hour early and spent the time looking over his notes and planning his attack. The prosecutor was one of the few here whom he considered competent and she would not be easy to work around. Helpfully, the judge was an idiot with a taste for expensive lunches and Gabriel had been keeping him subtly well-supplied in that regard for quite some time. Crowley had also found a planning application for land the judge’s daughter owned and had made it clear though quiet back-channels that the application for the small block of luxury flats would be pushed though easily for the right outcome or not at all for the wrong one. The judge and his daughter were set to make or lose millions depending on Crowley’s good will. It was so easy it was boring.

A few hours later, the opposing council was storming out of the courtroom with a face like thunder. She wasn’t ready for the likes of Crowley and he had torn her arguments apart a piece at a time. He hadn’t really needed to but it made him relax and forget his own worries for the few hours they were in court. And it was good to keep in practise – there was a lot more of this coming in the next couple of weeks. The result, on the entirely un-level playing field that he had carefully curated prior to the session, was that the case was dismissed. He felt a brief flicker of sympathy for the prosecutor – she was good but she didn’t know that she had never had a chance. She’d learn. If she stayed clean and didn’t break, she would be formidable in a few years.

Gabriel, whom he had not seen in person since their altercation, had sat quietly beside him doing an excellent impression of a vaguely irritated but mostly disappointed-in-the-accusers benevolent leader.  He did nothing to suggest that there had been any problem between them and amazingly did exactly as he was told. He answered the questions clearly and without any flourishes or showboaring. As they walked out of the courthouse, he leaned in and said, “You are worth what I’m paying you, as I was told you would be. That was quite something. I’m very pleased.” Crowley grunted in response but did not engage him further. Back in the office, he returned to his list and smiled as he crossed the last item out. That was the end of the easy work. The rest was more complicated, which at this stage he was looking forward to. This basic shit was getting tedious and with his nerves on edge he needed more of a challenge to keep himself calm and his thoughts focused on work.

He returned to looking at Gabriel’s accounts and found more and more reference to the furniture company – Advent Furnishings. Something about the name was vaguely familiar to him but he couldn’t place what and it was possible that it was just how often it was appearing. Regardless, he needed to know more about it. He was certain that it was important. The afternoon turned to evening and he was still running though emails, accounts and documents. He set a programme running to try to follow the chain of increasingly obscure companies that Advent was nested in. It was a franchise of a larger furniture company but that was owned in turn by another larger company and he knew it would go on for a while until he found the multi-national that was likely obscured by a shell company. This would take hours, if not days.

He pushed back in his chair and rested his hands on the back of his head. He was certain that Advent was critical but he couldn’t see why or even how. He saw no obvious connection – apart from the emails – to either Gabriel or Lucas. He was sure that the entire operation, whatever it was, turned around this company.  And Lucas – Lucas was the centre of it all. Like the black hole at the centre of the galaxy, pulling everything towards him and eventually consuming it all. And Crowley worried that he was already trapped in his gravitational pull. That he had been since they met. The computer’s processor started to whine in effort as the programme co-opted more and more memory and Crowley knew he would just have to wait for it to finish because it wouldn’t be able to do anything else. The gentle whine had a soft hypnotic effect on Crowley’s tired brain and he slipped back into his memory of the night he met Lucas.

9 years ago: Bar Eden in New York

“You’re a fucking bastard Crowley. You are keeping these fuckers on the street and what they do next is on you. Bastard!!” The district attorney slammed his palm on the bar and glared at him.

Crowley twisted his lips and smirked at him as he finished his Old Fashioned, sipping through the straw as obnoxiously as possible. “I play by your rules, Declan. I work with your laws. If they favoured your side, being “right” as you like to call it, then they would work better. You don’t understand your own rules and unfortunately for you, I’m much better at using them than you are. That’s really not my problem. Fix your laws or get better at your job but please, for the love of god, stop whining when you lose. You should be used to it by now.”

“You’re destroying people’s lives you smarmy git!”

“No I’m not - you are. You’re not good enough to beat me. This is on you.”

“Why do you do this? You could actually help, do some good! Why are you on their side, you prick?”

Crowley laughed. “I’m on my own side, dumbass.”

The DA looked like he was going to punch Crowley, who smirked even more and hoped he would. It would be fantastic to sue him! But one of his juniors had finally located him and rushed over with hushed “he’s not worth it!” and other attempts to pacify the furious attorney.

“Bye Declan!” called Crowley while waving and laughing as the other man was pulled away.

He lent back against the bar, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself and enjoying the dimly lit ambiance. He loved Eden. It was home to the so-called elite of New York and had nice music, fantastic expensive cocktails and a marvellous view. It was the type of place that you needed an invite to cross the door and half the people here were wealthy politicians and lawyers. The other half were wealthy criminals who were good enough to pretend they were wealthy businessmen. Crowley fell somewhere in between but did not work for the law-biding part of the club – it was far too small to be worth his time.

He turned to order another drink and felt his breath leave his body.

“Let me get that for you? Another Old Fashioned or something else?”

Crowley struggled to answer, so just nodded as he took in the vision of a man standing beside him. He was thin but muscular, slightly taller than Crowley with midnight black hair and what felt like bottomless dark eyes that bored into his soul. The other man gestured to the barman and leant towards Crowley smiling slightly.  

“You’re quite a piece of work, Mr Anthony Crowley,” he said softly, looking Crowley up and down openly.

Crowley swallowed and tried to find his voice. “Assuming that’s a compliment, thank you. And you are?”

“Lucas Morningstar. I imagine you’ve heard of me.”

Holy shit! No one mentioned that he was fucking gorgeous. And young.

Crowley nodded. “Yes, but I thought you were… considerably older.”

Lucas smiled. “Yes, people tend to assume that until they meet me. They assume the same about you but I’d guess we’re around the same age – maybe early 30s or a little less?”

“A little less – 29 in a few weeks,” laughed Crowley, who was certain his pupils had expanded to fill his eyes and that the other man could see his heart rate starting to beat in tandem with the upbeat jazz now playing in the background.

“So a little younger,” smiled Lucas as he reached for two drinks and acknowledged the bar-tender with a nod but did not pay. Crowley reached for his wallet but the other man grinned. “I said I’d get you a drink. You don’t pay while you’re with me gorgeous. I want to talk business so come over to my booth where we can speak.”

Crowley must have looked confused because Lucas laughed brightly and said, “I own the bar. Stop looking so concerned. I own the entire building.”

“Oh,” said Crowley as he followed him to the back of the bar where they slipped into a booth that was wrapped in shadow.

Lucas sat opposite Crowley and pushed the cocktail towards him. He looked him up and down again with such intensity that Crowley felt his face redden slightly. He sipped his drink to have something to do. The illusive businessman was like magic beans in the world Crowley moved in – if he worked for him, he’d never need to work for anyone else. Of course, Crowley knew Lucas’ reputation outside of his official business interests too but, once his red lines were respected, that would only double his work. Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself he was thinking. He certainly wasn’t thinking about dark eyes, soft lips and beautiful hands and what they might do under the right circumstances. Money, think about the money, he chastised himself. And then with a shock remembered what he was actually supposed to be doing and getting in with Lucas would make that much, much easier. It had been months since his actual job had so much as crossed his mind – he was having far too much fun here to be bothered with that. Anyway, if things decided to line up for him, then all the better. 

“I enjoyed the floor show with that fool Declan. I thought he was going to punch you! Pity the minion arrived when he did. He’d have been fired if he laid a finger on you and I’m sure you would have made a fortune out of it. But then you might not need to talk to me and that would be such a shame.”

Crowley smiled and sat forward a little. “He’s very easy to wind up and he lost a big case today because he missed a very minor point of law. It was better than him losing – the entire thing was thrown out of court. It was fabulous. I don’t imagine he’ll be around for long – he’s not actually good enough for the job his daddy got him and he can’t control his temper. It’s a bad mix.”

Lucas nodded and smiled at him through long, beautiful eyelashes. “Tell me exactly what you did.”

Crowley watched the other man lean in closer, lick his lips and grin at him as he explained exactly how he had gone from a case where his client should have been facing 20 years in jail to Declan screaming that he was a scumbag and a bastard in court. The judge – who to be fair, Crowley knew to be taking bribes and had mentioned that casually in the gents a few days before the trial started – was not impressed and threw it all out.  Crowley felt a shoeless foot touch his ankle and moved slightly. The foot followed and he gave a half smile and didn’t move again.

Lucas nodded and bit his lower lip slightly. “Clever. And done with flare. Intelligence is the greatest aphrodisiac, in my opinion.” Crowley thought he might combust on the spot. The foot moved up his calf gently and Crowley hoped he didn’t need to stand up anytime soon. He swallowed.

“I need someone who can do this, find out things that are useful and be clever about resolving legal problems. I think you know my reputation so I need someone who isn’t squeamish about handing all of my business interests.”

“I have two red lines.” The foot was now moving inside and upwards. Crowley opened his legs slightly. Fuuuuck, he thought trying to keep a hold on his arousal and negotiate this potentially very lucrative deal. And important for other things his panicked mind tried to remind him.

“Even for me?”

“Y… yes. For everyone. No exceptions.”

“And they are?” The foot now grazed the inside of his thigh. He really didn’t want to spend much more time talking.

“I won’t defend anything even touching on sexual assault or anything – anything at all – to do with kids. I don’t care what it is. I won’t do it.” He squeaked slightly as a gentle contact was made with his genitals and hoped desperately he could hold himself together.

Lucas tilted his head and appeared to consider as his foot continued to torment Crowley who closed his eyes briefly but then tried to return his focus to the beautiful man in front of him. “I could make you come right here, you know? Would you be impressed or embarrassed?”

“Both!”

“Ha! Ok. I don’t like red lines but I’ve followed your endeavours for the last 18 months and the case today was really impressive. I accept. You haven’t given me a price.”

Crowley smirked. “You own the entire building and I know what your general business interests are. You can afford me but don’t expect me to be cheap. You want the best, you pay for it. Anyway, if you’ve been following me, you know what I charge.”

Lucas reached across the table and stroked Crowley’s hand. “I do know. I’ll double it if you are exclusively mine.” Crowley swallowed, knowing that he didn’t mean just in business. “Let’s see how we get on tonight and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

There was a flash of something dark across Lucas’ eyes but then he smiled and stood up, keeping his back to the rest of the bar to obscure his entirely obvious erection. He pulled Crowley up and pushed what he had thought was a wall to reveal a corridor. Five minutes later, they were in the penthouse tearing each other’s clothes off. The next morning Crowley signed the papers relating to the official aspects of Lucas’ business.

Present day

Crowley rocked on his chair as he reminisced. That weekend had been exquisite. Passionate, fun and filled with promise. Of course, the problem was that he had fallen so very quickly and so very hard. He was Lucas’ man before he left the penthouse two days later. He could rationalise it all and certainly it had worked well for his other endeavours but he knew that he was in trouble if he had to spend any real time in Lucas’ company. Seeing him from afar the other night had led to Lucas dominating his thoughts since. This was not good.

His mind drifted again, back to a week or two after their first meeting in Eden as he lay curled in his lover’s arms.

“You’re so beautiful Anthony. So perfect.” He stiffened slightly at Lucas’s use of his name. “What’s wrong, darling? Why don’t you like your first name? Should I stop using it?” Crowley turned so that they were facing each other and stroked Lucas’s face gently as he considered. “I… well… I don’t really like it. You know St Anthony is the patron saint of lost causes. I try not to consider myself an entirely lost cause but it’s certainly what my mother thought of me.” Lucas looked at him with a flash of anger and then nothing but compassion. “Your mother was and remains a bitch, darling. And you might be her lost cause, but my Anthony, you are my found one. My reason, my love, the centre of my universe.” Crowley laughed and kissed him. “I find it less objectionable when it is on your lips my love,” he said. “Once it is only you – only you can call me Anthony. I don’t want it catching on.” Lucas’ eyes lit up in delight and he practically vibrated in pleasure. “I like that even more. Only for me. Just like the rest of you.” Crowley laughed and wrapped himself around Lucas more fully, pulling him into a deeper kiss and then into more.

He sighed, pulling himself back to the present, and glanced at the computer. It was no longer struggling to run the programme and a small dialogue box was blinking happily, indicating a new connection. Crowley sat forward and felt his stomach sink to the floor. A name was flashing on screen. He hadn’t seen it before in relation to a shell company but he knew the pattern and he remembered the name from his irritatingly religious upbringing. Megiddo. Megiddo was the shell corporation that owned several multinationals including the one that owned Advent Furnishings. Advent then clicked into place in his mind and he groaned. It was slightly less obvious than Megiddo and Eden if you were looking for tiny hints of Lucas but it fit. He groaned. Lucas, ultimately, owned the company he was investigating. And as usual with Lucas it was it was there right in the open – so transparent he hadn’t been able to see it. Fuck! Lucas owned the furniture company. And he had called the overall controlling company, hidden by so many layers of deceit, after Armageddon. What the Hell was he up to? Now, he needed to know what else Lucas owned that was connected to this and what the furniture company was really being used for, because it wasn’t furniture. He moved back to his computer and started trying to find the evidence he knew would exist somewhere. Lucas was very good at hiding things, but not as good as Crowley was at finding them.

***

Friday evening

Crowley nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck and started to kiss him gently along the collarbone as his right hand traced Aziraphale’s jawline and his left started an erotic migration down his ribs. Aziraphale squirmed and signed. “You’re both several years younger and quite a lot fitter than me, my dear. I’m not sure I can keep up.” Kisses turned to laughter along his neck. Aziraphale rolled and pushed Crowley gently down into the bed, holding his arms at his side and sliding down his chest. He smiled up at him. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have another round, of course.” Crowley wriggled happily and looked at him like he never wanted to look at anything else. Aziraphale felt dizzy gazing back at him. He worked his way down to Crowley’s right hip with soft kisses and then, somehow for the first time noticed the tattoo – a tiny snake, coiled right around the hip bone. He kissed it and continued inwards. Crowley had his hands tangled in blond curls and was gasping in delight seconds later.

Aziraphale was pulled from his half asleep recollection of the previous weekend by a knock on the door a little after 9 pm. He shook his head to clear it and felt mildly embarrassed at where his dozing mind had taken him – again. He really needed to stop revisiting his night with Crowley but any break in concentration seemed to leave his mind open to immediate distraction. He pushed himself off his small sofa and opened the door to Captain Uriel. She looked tired and frustrated.

“Captain, come in. Coffee or wine?”

“Ooh I want to say wine but I’m driving. Coffee please, Az. God that fucking lawyer is a nightmare. He nearly broke Susie Davidson this morning and it seemed like he was doing it for fun. Like its how the fucker relaxes. He won easily and then he just kept going. He took her apart a piece at a time. Davidson is a decent prosecutor and one of the few that I don’t think is fully on the take and she’s probably going to need fucking therapy after today.” She rubbed her eyes with her fists as she took a seat at Aziraphale’s little counter. He put water into the kettle and set it to boil.

Crowley was an utter enigma. After last night, and spending the day wondering what the Hell he was up to, Aziraphale had forgotten what he was actually doing in Sanctuary – removing problems for Gabriel. And he was doing it with unbridled, ruthless efficiency. And apparently taking delight in being a bastard. He couldn’t figure him out at all.

“On a more positive note, I did get some information from my FBI contact. Not much but some. Crowley is disturbingly clean, particularly given his associates but he is directly connected to Morningstar. I’m not going to ask how you even know that Lucas Morningstar exists. But they were lovers for quite a long time – five or six years is the estimate but no one is really sure. They certainly moved in the same circles for longer than that but the actual relationship was kept quiet initially. Then three years ago Lucas disappeared and Crowley moved his base to Chicago. He’s usually there and seems to have gone out on his own entirely. But the connection to Lucas raises questions – particularly since I’m assuming you suspect his involvement in things that you are supposed to be leaving alone.”

Uriel took an envelope out of her bag and passed it to Aziraphale. He opened it to find several photographs of Crowley with a gorgeous man with dark hair who was slightly taller than the lawyer. It was the man that had so perturbed him the previous evening. The pictures were all taken in a dimly lit bar and showed a pair who looked very much in love. Aziraphale lingered on one in particular. Lucas’ left hand was wrapped tightly around Crowley’s waist pulling them together and his right hand rested along Crowley left ear and into his hair. Their torsos were separated but their foreheads rested together and they were staring into each other’s eyes like nothing else existed. Crowley’s hands rested on Lucas’ waist and he looked like he wanted to sink into the other man. They were in public and entirely decent in the photograph but it radiated desire and the moments before neither condition would remain true. Aziraphale had to shake himself mentally to stop his mind remembering Crowley’s hands on him, Crowley’s eyes boring into his and the moment before a kiss when they breathed each other in. He swallowed and turned to make Uriel’s coffee.

“What else?”

“Morningstar is a fascinating character. There isn’t much on him other than rumour but the rumours are that the underworld is terrified of him. No one wants to cross him and he ran New York while he was there. Some people think he still does, but quietly now.  He bought politicians, criminals, buildings – whatever he wanted and it’s never been clear why he wanted any of it. He made money in stocks and low-key insider trading that couldn’t be proven but it’s pretty clear what was going on behind closed doors and occasionally open windows. Several high-profile traders in Wall Street had a variety of unfortunate accidents and my contact links this with major increase in spending by Morningstar – or in other words he executed anyone who wouldn’t work for him and made a fortune.

“When Morningstar disappeared, he was being investigated for a connection to a new drug, something called demon. Some low-level asshole in New York took the fall for what the FBI found when they raided his places and he denied everything via video link because they couldn’t make him come back from Mexico when they had only circumstantial evidence against him personally. But even a cursory glance at the testimony shows that the guy they prosecuted didn’t have a clue what was actually going on. He was still, somehow, convicted but he was clearly set up to take the blame. This was even more unusual because at the time, Morningstar’s people seldom – if ever – faced serious consequences even when there was evidence against them because of Crowley. He protected them legally and Morningstar protected them in other ways. Whether this incident was deemed a necessary sacrifice or was a punishment to the guy in question, we don’t know. Certainly some people suggest that it was Crowley punishing Lucas for something because he refused to have anything to do with the defence and went to Chicago.  Demon disappeared for years but it’s reappeared recently. mostly in Florida but it's moving up the east coast rapidly. There have been a few reports of it in New York and we’re even starting to see it here. You know about the new dealers in and around the Waterfront and this is what they are pushing.”

Aziraphale nodded and handed Uriel the coffee.

“He’s a drug dealer now? That seems… I don’t know…. Pretty basic, given everything else that is happening around the Waterfront and Gabriel.”

“No, he’s not. That’s part of what’s a bit weird about what happened in New York. The raid that pushed Morningstar to run and apparently ended his relationship with Crowley focused on the drug. But he wasn’t dealing it – he was developing it. Previous to this he wasn’t really involved in drugs beyond allowing certain select dealers to work in his clubs. It was out of character for him and he, apparently, didn’t allow anything hard in his people. There were a few incidents and the rest of them learned pretty fast to stay away from drugs. He has a real problem with it. Mostly, he was involved in dodgy stock trading, shady business deals, protection but on a very high level and general stuff along those lines. So his involvement with drugs was surprising and as for developing one – well that was just bizarre. Even stranger is the drug itself. Demon has really weird and unpredictable properties. My FBI contact says they’re really worried about it. It’s… chaotic.  Some people have a dreadful reaction to it. They become aggressively high – appearing drunk more than anything else but its effects last for hours. The negative results are either vomiting and a horrendous hangover or hospitalisation and potential organ failure and death if a bad reaction isn’t spotted and dealt with fast enough. People who don’t have a bad reaction to it seem to get an incredible high from it and it is almost immediately addictive to them and nearly impossible to come off, even with medical assistance. It’s vile. There are also some suggestions that small amounts can make people highly suggestable. But that’s more a fear than something that is actually known.”

Aziraphale looked at her in horror. Demon must have been what he’d been given when he ended up in Chester. He still didn’t remember a damn thing between the bar in Sanctuary and the vague flashes of memory in the jail. His hangover and vomiting had been the best case scenario. Who had given him such a terrible drug and why? He’d been lucky. Very lucky. Crowley was right. He did need to be careful. This was getting far too dangerous. But then what? That drug could devastate lives and probably already was, never mind the rest of whatever Gabriel was involved with.

“How do they know this? That’s… surely the FBI would never allow something like this to get a foothold.”

“They really don’t know much about it. It’s not like it’s being double blind tested by Harvard Medical, Az. And they are not allowing it – they’re not able to stop it. They think it’s being manufactured in Mexico and smuggled across the border but nothing is clear.  It’s making someone, probably Morningstar, a lot of money. And it’s spreading. My FBI contact also said that opinion is split between people thinking Crowley turned on Morningstar and was the leak that led to the raids and others that he’s still working for him. They really don’t know.”

Aziraphale wondered briefly if Crowley could be FBI – but that seemed entirely too convenient to sooth his own guilty conscience. Then again, it made a sort of sense too, particularly when he considered the lawyer sneaking around in the bushes spying on Gabriel’s meeting. He looked at the photograph again. Deadly and addictive or a bad night leaving only a hangover.  There was a metaphor in there for Crowley he thought sadly and he looked absolutely addicted to Lucas. Was he still working for him? Was Aziraphale the hangover?

Aziraphale took a deep breath and in a rush before he could change his mind said, “I slept with him.”

Uriel’s eyes widened and she looked appalled. “Oh Az! No! Why? When? Why would you sleep with him after everything he’s done to you? You’re not going back to him are you? Not after the last few years?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Not Gabriel.” He tapped the photograph with his finger. “Crowley.”

“WHAT?! What the fuck do you mean? Az – for fuck’s sake! Why would you do that?”

“Calm down. I didn’t know who he was at the time and I have no idea whether he knew who I was but I suspect I was his pre-job fuck. It’s all very embarrassing, Captain, and I know how much of a problem this is.”

“Oh you have no idea! Are you out of your damn mind? You fucked Gabriel’s bastard mob lawyer who is probably still working for one of the most dangerous gangsters in the country? Fuck Az. This is so bad. If he tells anyone I cannot protect you.”

“I know. I’m not asking you to. Look, I need to tell you what happened because this is getting entirely out of control. Lucas Morningstar is in Sanctuary and working with Gabriel.  I’m out of my depth. I need your help. Or at the very least, I need you to know who to interview if I turn up dead.”

“Oh, oh! Finally you accept that you’re out of your bloody depth? Brilliant. Fucking wonderful.” She looked furious but remained sitting at the counter. “Tell me then.” Aziraphale took another deep breath and prepared to tell her what he felt he could – not everything but most of it. He didn’t see a choice anymore. When he was done, Uriel had only one bit of advice. “Back the Hell off Az. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

***

Uriel sat in her car, hands resting on the steering wheel and her head resting on her hands. She couldn't believe Az. And she knew he hadn't actually told her what happened the night he met Crowley for the first time. She suspected – no she knew – that the bastard lawyer had propositioned him and Az – straight as an arrow, law-biding to an infuriating degree, honest to a fault Az – had accepted! She couldn't believe it. How could he have been so stupid? So unethical? It threw a dreadful shadow across his judgement. She knew he was feeling the strain of Gabriel's relentless pressure and that he had been distraught when the evidence, evidence she had never seen, was stolen. For the first time she worried that he hadn't been truthful with her. He clearly wasn't himself. And if Crowley had set him up that night, which seemed a strong possibility, it was only a matter of time before the entire fiasco became public knowledge. Maybe she should tell Beez and protect herself. Az hadn't done her any favours with any of this and she couldn't trust him now. 

She let her head roll back against the headrest and resisted the urge to scream or punch the steering wheel. Sanctuary was as corrupt as Hell and trying to keep her precinct even relatively on the right side of things had made her a lot of enemies, including the chief. If Az's catastrophic error in judgement came out, she would likely be fired too. But if she gave him up Beez wouldn't fire her.  But bloody Gabriel might. She couldn't ever figure out the relationship between Az and Gabriel – that was why she had assumed Az had slept with him. It would be sad to see Az go back but not entirely surprising and Gabriel, despite all his affairs and gas-lighting clearly wanted him back. None of his bits-on-the-side gave him any credibility. Well, except Beez. Beez would be even better than Az for credibility but she would never give up her career, which was the only thing Uriel respected about her.

Uriel took a deep breath and turned the key in her cars ignition. She was glad she hadn't told Az everything her FBI contact had revealed. Crowley had a file that her contact couldn't access. That meant either the high-priced lawyer was an FBI agent, high level informant or a criminal involved in something so big that they couldn't risk rumours of it getting out. She had no idea which but felt the later was more likely, particularly with his presence here right now and his connection to Morningstar. And all his other criminal connections. He could be working for anyone. What she really thought was that he was FBI but that Morningstar had turned him. And that was far too dangerous a possibility to go near. She certainly didn't trust Az to be careful; he wasn't telling her everything and she doubted that he would actually back off. Az wasn't the only one who needed to walk away from all of this. She drove home, her head spinning and entirely unsure what to do next.

Saturday morning

Aziraphale arrived back at his trailer carrying a bag of groceries and wrapped in confused thoughts that all swam around Crowley. Uriel had been rightly furious with him when he had told her but he wasn’t convinced that Crowley knew who he was when they met. If he did know, he was a marvellous actor and the entire scene at the Waterfront on Wednesday evening was bizarre. There was no reason for anyone to suspect that Aziraphale would go there and why on Earth would Crowley be there too only to trap him and then do nothing? It made no sense. Aziraphale wondered again and again who Crowley really was and who he was working for because he didn’t believe anything that the lawyer was showing the world was true – or at least it wasn’t the whole truth. Irritatingly, he felt like he might be more trustworthy than anyone else in Sanctuary because of all the increasingly obvious lies he was projecting into the world.

When he had pushed Uriel on what more the FBI had on him, she said she didn’t have anything else. He didn’t believe her and supposed that he should have gotten the information before he told her about them sleeping together. Regardless of what the FBI may or may not have on Crowley, Aziraphale was leaning towards him being an agent. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made and certainly it was more sensible than anything else he could come up with, even if the English backstory suggested otherwise. But why would that be the one true thing the enigmatic bastard had told him? And he’d heard Crowley speak with an American accent too. Crowley was shades of grey brought to life and he had no idea who he actually was.

Aziraphale sighed and dug his keys out of his pocket to open the door. He fumbled and dropped them. Groaning in exasperation at himself, he bent down to retrieve them. He needed to sleep more. He eventually got the key in the lock and turned but the door was already unlocked. Briefly wondering if he had forgotten to lock it, which seemed unlikely, he cautiously pushed the door and stepped inside.

“Finally, about time you turned up.”

Aziraphale hissed and glared at Gabriel who was sitting on the small sofa to the left of the door with his legs outstretched across the little living space. “Get out,” said Aziraphale.

“Yeah, no. We’re going to talk. You’re playing with fire Aziraphale and, despite what you think, I don’t want you hurt. Put your sad little bag of groceries down and talk to me. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Aziraphale glared at him and felt irritatingly embarrassed at Gabriel being here and ordering him around. And yet, as had so often been the case over the years, it was hard not to comply – he couldn’t just stand there glaring holding the grocery bag. He hated this. Fuming, he turned around and put the bag on the counter then turned back, folded his arms, leant against the wall and raised an eyebrow.

Gabriel sat up straighter and softened his expression. “Come on, Aziraphale, I really do just want to talk. You haven’t spoken properly to me in… well a very long time. Please?”

Ah yes, he’s gotten his way and now the politician comes out – asking for something he already knows he has so that the other person thinks they have won a round. At least I don’t fall for this crap anymore. “Talk and then leave.”

Gabriel smiled softly at him and sat up straighter, pulling his legs in. “Thank you. Look, firstly, I’m sorry about the boardroom and everything that’s happened in the last few months. It got out of hand and I was hurt. I shouldn’t have reacted so poorly. I… come on Aziraphale… you know I still care about you. I don’t want this. I know I’ve been a shit to you but I never wanted the divorce, never wanted you to leave and look at where you are now – surely you don’t think this is going well?”

Aziraphale felt his face redden. No, it was not going at all well for him and they both knew that. He said nothing.

“Come home.”

“What?!”

“Come home. Come back to me and we can work this out. I’m really close to getting this actually sorted – not the way you want but that’s not how things work here but after the next few weeks I will actually be able to change things, like we said, make it better. And I want you with me. Come back. Please.”

Aziraphale looked at him in shock. “You cannot be serious. You don’t want me back and I don’t want to go back. That would be insane. You don’t even like me, Gabriel.”

Gabriel looked down at his feet. “I’m so sorry Aziraphale that you think that. I am deadly serious. I want you back.” He stood up and moved towards Aziraphale, who was still standing against the wall. He felt his heart rate increase and his mind was spinning. Gabriel couldn’t mean this. This was just his latest play to get Aziraphale to back off. He didn’t want this at all but he was tired and nothing he did made any difference. It would certainly be easier. Gabriel stood close to him, looking down at him with his grey eyes boring into Aziraphale’s blue. He reached out, placing his left hand on Aziraphale’s right hip and his right hand gently caressed his face. It was muscle memory more than anything even approaching desire that made Aziraphale lean into the familiar touch. Gabriel leant down and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s softly and pulled back a fraction almost immediately. “Come home,” he whispered.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. He was so tired and nothing made sense. Gabriel kissed him again, gently, not looking for anything more than the barest contact. Aziraphale closed his eyes and leant into him. The kiss deepened and memories of better times rose to the front of his mind. The possibilities of what they could actually achieve if they worked together properly – all the plans they had made years ago and how they could still become reality danced in his mind as Gabriel pulled him into his arms more fully.

But then everything else resurfaced – the cheating, the lying, the bribes and the arguments. Aziraphale broke the kiss and put his hands on Gabriel’s chest, pushing him away. “No! No, Gabriel! It’s too late – years too late. I don’t want this. I don’t love you anymore and you don’t love me. Stop this.”

Gabriel moved back a little but kept his hands on Aziraphale’s waist. He looked sadly at him and shook his head slightly. “Your pride was always your greatest flaw Aziraphale. Why can’t you just admit that you would be better off with me? You could be comfortable and enjoy the benefits of being with me again – and you know there are plenty. You can run charities, help people – actually make a difference but you won’t because of your pride. Love doesn’t come into it. We can help each other and I do care. I do. Stop being stupid and come home.”

Aziraphale pushed him more firmly, releasing himself from Gabriel’s embrace. “I said no. I meant it. I’m sorry.”

Gabriel stepped back and his eyes were now ice. “Fine. You’ll change your mind eventually. You were an excellent political spouse and I don’t know why that wasn’t enough for you. But it will be and sooner than you might think.”

“What the Hell does that mean? I’m not going back, Gabriel. And you’re in trouble – I know you are.”

Gabriel nodded. “A little but it’s getting sorted.”

“I don’t mean whatever legal shit your flashy bastard lawyer is fixing for you. I think you’re in actual trouble with the type of people who don’t use lawyers to sort things out.”

Gabriel barked a laugh and sneered. “The lawyer is recommended by the… business associate… so no. I’m not in that sort of trouble. And it’s all going to be dealt with.”

Aziraphale glared at him and then wondered yet again about Crowley – was he working for Morningstar rather than the FBI? But he’d been terrified when he saw him. Terrified and aroused. He didn’t want to think about that right now. Bloody Crowley. Who the fuck was he?

“Alright, Aziraphale, we can do this the hard way since that’s what you seem to want. You need to back the fuck off on the Waterfront stuff. I’m done being nice about it. It’s too important and you’re going to get yourself hurt. You’re also making me look bad, so this has got to stop. I’ve tried to get you to walk away every way I know how – asking you hasn’t worked, begging you hasn’t worked, pushing you back on the beat hasn’t worked, suspending you hasn’t worked. I know that threatening you won’t work so I’m not going to bother with that. I didn’t want to do this but I know what will work. You care about the people who live in this slum with you. I know you do. Most of them barely manage to pay their rent. If you don’t back off, the rent on every single one of these shitty plots will triple, effective immediately. And they will be told why.”

Aziraphale blanched. He had forgotten how quickly Gabriel could move from sweet and caring to being a thug. “You can’t do that. You don’t own the site.”

Gabriel sneered at him. “I own the guy who does, honey. So pick. Back off or watch me have everyone who lives here turfed out on the street. And not just here – as many of these shitty parks as possible. They’re all ripe for development and they don’t vote for me anyway.” Gabriel stepped back and turned to leave.

“Of course, if you change your mind about coming home, the threat goes away. You could, in fact, actually help people like the ones living here. But I’m not insisting on that – I’m reasonable. Just stay the fuck out of the way and I’ll leave the peasants alone. For now.”

He moved past Aziraphale but not before he reached out once more and stroked his face. He smiled and left.

Aziraphale sank back against the wall and tried to slow his breathing. What was he going to do? He couldn’t be the reason so many people were left without homes. But how much worse would it be if Gabriel was left unchecked to do whatever it was he was doing? Then again, he still didn’t even know what that was and had no useful evidence against him. He had hints, trails and supposition but little else. He was getting nowhere and he wouldn’t combine that with making innocent people’s already difficult lives worse. And Uriel wouldn’t help him now given her reaction last night. He was alone and without any allies. He couldn’t stop Gabriel and he knew it. But he couldn’t leave it alone completely. There was one last chance he could take, one last possibility that would either lead to disaster or help. It was a toss of a coin.  

***

Gabriel walked away from Aziraphale’s trailer feeling extremely irritated. The optimist in him had hoped to have Aziraphale bent over a flat surface in the wretched trailer before he left or better yet on his knees but he hadn’t really expected either outcome.  He had known it was too soon. Aziraphale was caving but he wasn’t there yet. He hadn’t wanted to do this right now but he’d been left with no choice. He had been told to get him to back off or his business partner was going to do it himself. Gabriel had made it clear that Aziraphale was part of the deal but apparently that wasn’t going to be accepted if he kept interfering. He ran his hands through his hair and signed in exasperation. Aziraphale would come back or he would die. He repressed his increasingly frantic second thoughts about working with Lucas Morningstar. He knew he had lost what little control he had once had over the situation but hopefully things would right themselves in the next few weeks. The bastard Crowley was doing an excellent job and once those difficulties were behind him and the shipments were organised, he would be in a stronger position again.  

Saturday afternoon

Aziraphale met Muriel in one of the coffee shops near the precinct. It shouldn’t raise that much suspicion but it was still a risk and he didn’t want her overly involved. He also didn’t want to raise her suspicions too much and he hoped that she didn’t recognise Crowley from the street fight the previous week. She had been busy with the others involved though so he hoped she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. They had coffee and chatted a little with Muriel bringing him up to speed on precinct gossip. Everyone was still annoyed with him about the training they had all had to do – even Muriel couldn’t quite keep the accusation out of her eyes as she told him that bit. But, she assured him, they would all get over it. There were more rumours about Hastor and Ligur – apparently they were both boasting about being largely untouchable when the Captain wasn’t within ear shot and there was the usual low-level bullying that was the daily life of the whole wretched city.

She also brought Crowley up herself, which was useful. “That new lawyer that the mayor hired is causing a stir – the one who was at your meeting last week. He’s really upset the prosecutors’ office and apparently he’s not terribly nice to them.”

Aziraphale breathed a silent sigh of relief. She didn't remember him from the bar fight or she would have said. It was too interesting a fact not to be brought up when they were talking about the lawyer.

“Well, he’s not supposed to be, is he? They’re on opposite sides.”

She nodded. “Yeah but he seems to enjoy upsetting them. Or well, that’s what people are saying. That’s he’s a bit mean about it.”

Aziraphale sighed internally. Only Muriel could describe Crowley’s antics as “a bit mean”. He was an absolute asshole.

“Look, speaking of Crowley, would do me a favour and not tell anyone?”

She looked at him sceptically. “Yes, I suppose so. Depending on what it is of course.”

He smiled. “Nothing much. I just want you to give him a note without anyone else seeing it. Don’t hand it to anyone else and don’t look yourself. Would you do that?”

“You want me to talk to that awful man? It’s not anything bad, is it – in the note?”

“Of course not. Just a note. Nothing else.”

“You’re not helping him, are you?” She looked scandalised at the thought.

“I need to speak with him and I need for other people not to know about it. Not anyone.”

She didn’t look entirely happy about it but nodded. He handed her a small white envelope with the unsigned note inside. “Just say it’s from me and nothing else. Ok?” She nodded and took the envelope. “Ok, Az. I’ll make sure he gets it.” He thanked her and left.

***

Saturday evening

Crowley pulled his overcoat around him snuggly and tied his belt fast as the icy wind cut through him when he stepped out of the tall rotating doors at the main entrance to the mayor’s building. It’s wasn’t late, only 7 pm but he was sick of being in the office. He was regretting his decision to walk in today but he hadn’t expected the weather to turn quite so cold. It was supposed to be warmer here than in Chicago but no one had told that to the weather in Sanctuary.

“Mr Crowley?” A slightly high-pitched female voice jarred him from his irritable internal commentary on the weather and he looked around to find a short young woman starting at him like he’d just kicked her kitten. He regarded her in confusion. “Yes.”

“I have something for you from Detective Fell.” She thrust an envelope out towards him and turned on her heel and left as soon as his fingers closed around it. Crowley blinked in confusion and looked down at the little white envelope. Why is Aziraphale passing me notes? Then again it’s not like he could just pop by the office if he wanted a chat. Crowley, who had not yet wrestled himself into his gloves, ripped the envelope open and fished out a neatly folded piece of paper. “The Potted Plant, 9 pm Monday. We need to talk. Don’t turn up dressed like a prick.” He turned it over looking for more but there was nothing.

This felt dangerous and weird. But the thought of seeing Aziraphale again was welcome. Even as he tried to convince himself that he was conflicted, he knew he would go. What does ‘don’t dress like a prick’ mean? It probably meant that he shouldn’t wear a suit. He tore the note into small pieces and threw it in a garbage can a few meters down the street, then fished out his gloves and shoved his hands inside. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t excited at the thought of seeing the detective again but he never bought his own bullshit for long. By the time he was back at the Apex, he had fully accepted he was going to meet Aziraphale and was looking in horror at the reviews of the bar where he had demanded they meet. He certainly wasn’t leaving the car there, anyway.

***

As Crowley strolled away from the mayor’s building and the garbage can that he had thrown the pieces of paper into, a shadow detached itself from the wall nearby and made a phone call. The shadow was called Ricky and was vaguely surprised that Crowley had failed to notice him. He starred after the lawyer in concern. Ricky had worked for Lucas for as long as he remembered. Lucas demanded total loyalty and Ricky was happy to exchange that for an excellent pay packet and simple work that didn’t require him to do anything other than what he was told to do. He like working for Lucas but he hated when Crowley was involved. The lawyer was Lucas’ only blind spot and the only thing that ever caused him to deviate from a plan. Life had been simple without Crowley and he was perturbed to see him here. Cleary Lucas was preparing to reintegrate him to his operations. But Ricky was sure Crowley was breaking their arrangement and that would upset Lucas. And an upset Lucas was everyone’s problem. Damn Crowley!

Five minutes later, as Ricky watched from another shadow, a truck pulled up and emptied the bin, replacing its existing bag with a new one. It cleared only that one particular bin and drove away.

Much later that evening, one of the younger guys handed Ricky a taped together and slightly soiled piece of paper. He groaned and cautiously moved towards Lucas, who was sitting at his desk in the makeshift office in one of the apparently abandoned Waterfront buildings.

“Boss?”

“Mmm?”

“Emm…”

Lucas looked up at him and pinned him with his intense gaze. “I em… I’ve been keeping an eye on things, as you know and tonight that led me to watching C… Crowley for a few minutes. Not because I was watching him, because we noticed a meeting with the cop and one of the younger ones. He- the cop - gave her something in an envelope, so I was watching her.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. He had told Ricky that he would watch Crowley and that everyone else was to stay away but hopefully this would be accepted as different. “Em… well she gave the envelope to Crowley earlier this evening. I had the boys retrieve it – he tore it up and put it in the bin – and em we have the message now.”

“Really?” Lucas stretched out his hand and took the tatty paper cautiously between thumb and forefinger. “That’s surprisingly remiss of Anthony. Though I suppose he wouldn’t want this in the Apex. Gabriel is looking for a good time to search the room – as if he’ll find anything useful. Moron.” Ricky did not tell Lucas that the page had been torn to tiny pieces that had kept two of the boys busy for hours – one of whom loved jigsaws and had still nearly given up. Crowley might be rusty in some ways but he was still Crowley.

Lucas’s lips compressed in anger as he read the note.

“Where is this ‘Potted Plant’?”

“It’s a dive bar about half an hour east of Sanctuary.”

Lucas barked a soft laugh. “Anthony won’t like that. Ok. Fine. I will go and observe.”

Ricky relaxed. Lucas was not annoyed at him or the boys. He was impossible to predict when it came to Crowley.

Lucas returned the paper to Ricky. “Destroy that and please pay attention to me now. Tomorrow, I will go alone. Understood?”

“Yes boss,” said Ricky, reclaiming the note and retreating. If Crowley was screwing around they were all likely to suffer for it but then again, Ricky didn’t understand why Lucas thought he wouldn’t when he’d left him out in the cold for three years. Lucas, as much as Ricky liked working for him, was a total enigma to him. It was best to just do what he was told.

Chapter Text

Week 3: Monday evening

Aziraphale stifled a laugh as he saw Crowley skulk into the almost empty bar. He was relieved and a little surprised that he’d come but Crowley trying to not look like himself was genuinely funny. The well-tailored figure-hugging suit had been replaced with the sweat pants and grey hoody that he had worn when they met at the Waterfront. It just didn’t look right on him, particularly indoors.  He slunk though the bar, slide into the seat opposite Aziraphale and dropped a rucksack at his feet that probably contained his more usual attire.

“This is dangerous, Aziraphale. What is so important?”

“Nice to see you too. Stop being so dramatic. I think… I don’t trust you but I need someone else to know what I know. Maybe you can help.”

He waved to the waiter who came over with two beers. Crowley frowned at it, took a sip and winced slightly as he drank. Aziraphale smiled internally. For all his underworld activity, Crowley clearly did not like dive bars nor did he seem remotely comfortable in one. But this one was owned by a friend of his and he was sure it was safe. Shax hated Gabriel and she and Aziraphale had been friends for years. For what it was, it was clean and the only trouble tended to be bar fights. Aziraphale liked it. He used to come here when he needed a break from Gabriel’s high-flying donors and colleagues.

Crowley was making a face at the beer and looking around the bar, clearly disgruntled.

“You know, when I brought you somewhere it was to a fancy hotel with expensive wine.”

Aziraphale smiled. “You were trying to get laid.”

“Worked,” muttered Crowley glaring at the beer again as he took another cautious sip.

Aziraphale regarded him in amusement for a moment and then, curious, asked, “If you hate these places so much, why were you at The Swamp the night we met? That’s way worse than here.”

Crowley looked up at him in surprise and then turned bright red. “Really doesn’t matter. What do you want?”

Aziraphale wanted to see if Crowley would tell him the truth about anything and surely this didn’t matter enough to lie. “Why were you there, Crowley?”

“I… look, I don’t do it often, but it’s… sort of a ritual I guess… before a big job, particularly in a new place… I… well… I like to relax the night before.”

“Relax?” Aziraphale was trying to keep his face neutral but he was enjoying himself now. He didn’t remember ever managing to make Crowley uncomfortable and it was fun to watch him squirm. Particularly when Aziraphale already knew why.

Crowley, obligingly, continued to squirm. “I… oh god. Don’t take this badly… I like to pick someone up for a good time. I don’t usually see them again. I don’t do attachments, Angel. But I like a bit of fun before I start on a difficult job.” He looked at the beer-stained table between them and was a delightful shade of mortified red.

“And you went to The Swamp to find someone? Really? You don’t like these bars, why not… literally anywhere else?”

Crowley rolled his head back in exasperation and groaned. “Because I’m here for Gabriel and his cronies. I can’t fuck one of them or someone who knows them. So I stay away from the higher-end bars when I do this. Because the guys in places like The Swamp like to experience the finer things but know it’s only for a night – they’re not clingy. Because usually, it’s easy. But I miscalculated how much of a shit hole it was and got in a fight instead. As you are well aware.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Well, I think we both had a good night in the end. Even if I’m still not entirely sure you didn’t set me up.” But he didn’t believe that anymore.

“I fucking didn’t! I’ve told you that already. I said I was sorry!”

“Ok! Ok, I’m sorry. I’m only teasing you. I already knew. Calm down.”

Crowley glared at him and Aziraphale laughed. “Sorry,” he said again, “but you do tend to have the advantage of me and I wanted to know if you were even remotely capable of telling me the truth.”

“Aziraphale… yeah alright very fucking funny. I’m not joking when I say it’s dangerous for us to be seen together and you clearly didn’t drag me out here to seduce me or laugh at me. What do you want?”

Aziraphale softened his gaze. Crowley was half right. “Ok,” he said. “Look, some stuff has happened and well… as much as I don’t want to, I do need to back off. Other people, innocent people, are going to be hurt if I don’t. Gabriel is not messing around anymore. You – I have no idea what you are really doing here or anything else but I’m taking the last chance I have to take.”

Crowley’s eyes wrinkled in confusion but he said nothing. Aziraphale reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a small, black USB key. He held it out and gently placed it on the table, not releasing it. Crowley’s eyes tracked the movement of his hand like he was trying to see the trick in a magic show.

“Everything I have – which isn’t much – and everything I suspect but cannot prove – which is a lot more – is on this memory stick. It includes copies of the photographs from the other night; the only piece of hard evidence I still have – which is an email chain from a furniture company to Gabriel that I am certain is important; and a long list of people I know he was bribing and threatening as well as other various suspicions and people I think are involved. It may or may not be of use – depending on who you are and what you are really after here.”

Crowley’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat and he tried desperately to ignore the flush of heat that spread though his entire body.

“You could have had your little friend give me this instead of your note. Why are we here?”

Because I’m a fool and wanted to see you once more before things go really bad. “Because I wanted to find out more about what you know. What do you think Gabriel is mixed up in? How bad is this?”

Crowley’s hand was still wrapped around his wrist and he starred at him with his beautiful but inscrutable almost amber eyes. “I’ve told you, I can’t tell you. And I’m not going to even if I could. I don’t believe that you will walk away but I do believe that you think something might happen to you. What happened to make you do this?” Aziraphale didn’t release the USB but kept staring into Crowley’s eyes.

Crowley’s hand twitched slightly and his thumb rubbed the sensitive skin of Aziraphale’s wrist, sending a lightning bolt of attraction though him. Did Crowley mean anything he said or did or was this all part of an act? It was impossible to tell. He was taking such a huge chance here but he really couldn’t see any other choice.

Aziraphale finally broke eye contact and looked at the table. “Gabriel threatened to evict everyone in the trailer park. Everyone in all of the parks. I can’t be responsible for that when I have basically nothing and no way of actually stopping whatever he’s doing.”

“And why have you decided that I’m suddenly trustworthy enough to be given what you do have?”

“There isn’t anyone else. And I think… I hope… that you are at least not really on Gabriel’s side.”

Crowley continued to stare at him. He released the USB and Crowley’s hand moved away from his wrist to claim it, but not before his fingers glanced across the back of Aziraphale’s hand in what could easily have been an accident. Crowley looked at the USB briefly and then bent down, unzipped his bag and put it inside. He sat back in his chair and returned to the beer, taking a larger gulp this time.

“What do you know about the furniture company?”

“Not much other than that it is called Advent Furnishings, that it emails Gabriel far too often and that it has delivery charges that are clearly a front for something else. And they have been delivering something to one of the Waterfront properties – something about the size of larger laptops and quite a lot of them but I don’t know what they are.”

Crowley’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly the last part was news to him. Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel a little pleased that he had something the lawyer didn’t.

“I’m not sure exactly what Gabriel is involved in,” said Crowley slowly, “beyond all the bullshit bribes, threats, and beatings. I’ve cleared most of the hurdles around the Waterfront and I expect him to close on the purchase of the last few properties this week. I don’t know why he wants all of this property so much. It has potential but he’s spent way more on it than it’s worth when you take into account all the legal battles – never mind paying me. He will need to plough a lot more money into it to get anything worth owing. It looks like an absolute financial disaster but he is sure that it isn’t. I assume it’s linked to something else that will generate a lot of money but I haven’t found what. There is absolutely something much bigger going on. Lucas wouldn’t be involved if there wasn’t something huge being planned. No offense, but neither Gabriel nor Sanctuary are worth his time if there isn’t something else in the background. I’m guessing that they are approaching a critical point, hence the increased pressure on Gabriel to sort out his legal problems and why heis now threatening you properly. There is a time limit on something and it’s going to be up really soon.”

“Who is Lucas? I mean really. I know you were involved and he’s a criminal but he’s clearly more than that.”

“The fucking devil in my opinion.”

Aziraphale looked at him without speaking and sipped his beer.

Crowley, slouching down in his chair like a chastised teen, relented. “Oh it’s such a long story, Aziraphale and I don’t really want to go into all of it. The summary is that I left London a bit over10 years ago and went to New York. I started working for the richest, dumbest pricks I could find and got them out of trouble for a very high price. I quickly graduated to working for very rich and not quite as dumb scumbags who had a lot of legal problems and even more money. It was extremely lucrative. I never take anything that involves sexual assault or anything at all to do with kids.”

“They all do something like that, eventually.”

“Yeah, it’s a fine line but I won’t defend that and I won’t help them hide that sort of thing. Anyway, I’m… I’m really, really good at what I do. And I made a name for myself quickly. About a year or so after I moved to New York, I got some mid-level drug dealer off a charge that would have seen him in jail for over 20 years because a young cop misfiled evidence and another higher up guy off from charges of racketeering on a really obscure technicality. Those two cases got me a lot of attention, including from Lucas.”

Aziraphale knew he was glaring at Crowley with disapproval. He was a total scumbag. He should just get up right now and leave. “We really are on opposite sides, aren’t we?”

Crowley looked down at the table again. “I’m trying to be honest with you. And I can’t tell you much. Yes, ok fine. I was absolutely a total scumbag. I used my money and brains to make more money and do anything I wanted. I have no particular interest in the law beyond finding loopholes in it and have my own morals, my own red lines. I don’t actually break it though and it really isn’t as simple as it looks. Just let me finish, ok?”

Aziraphale nodded but wondered how he could ever trust the man sitting in front of him. Then again, he didn’t really, he’d just been left with no other option.  

“Anyway, after I’d been in New York for a while and I had cultivated a decent reputation in certain circles, I met Lucas. He was… captivating. He was like the damn sun and I was just grateful to be in orbit around him. He took me to the best restaurants, hotels, bars, bought me the best of everything and treated me like he bloody worshiped me. It was… fabulous, frankly. I’d never been that important to anyone ever before. I em… didn’t have the most affectionate of upbringings and was disowned when my bitch mother couldn’t handle that I was gay. So Lucas showering me with affection was… better than any drug. And I adored him for it.

“I dealt with any legal problems that cropped up and kept his boys out of trouble. Lucas was never in trouble – he’s far too smart for that. And… em… well the sex… oh god! It was incredible. Soft, loving, consuming, exciting, passionate, intense everything I could ever want. The only other person who’s been even close was…” He looked away. “You. Anyway,” he rushed on as Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. “I was head over heels in love with him and I did anything he asked. But I knew what he was too. I knew about the punishment beatings; the threats and tortures; extortion; and all the rest. I knew about the unexplained or over-explained deaths. He liked to do the real dirty work himself. He’d come home with blood on his clothes sometimes and I only ever helped clean it off and never asked any questions. He knew I didn’t like that so he kept me away from it. Unless he was punishing me for stepping out of line. Then he made me watch.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in horror and he felt sick. This made Gabriel look like an amateur. He had thought his ex-husband was a master at manipulation and controlling domestic abuse but he was nothing compared to Lucas. “How often did that happen?” asked Aziraphale softly.

“Now and then. Not often. What you have to understand about Lucas is that he thinks he’s right. When he made me watch him beat the living shit out of someone, he felt it was an appropriate punishment. Another mob boss would have made me do it or done it to me but he wanted me in line, not broken, so it was, to him at least, proportional. And afterwards, when we were at home, he’d hold me until I fell asleep. He’d wait, sometimes weeks until I was ready to be with him again. He never complained, not once. He viewed it as necessary and then gave me time to “recover.” You know that saying, “an angel on the streets; a devil in the sheets?” Well Lucas is the other way around. Even when he put me in hospital it was just a beating, nothing worse and once he was satisfied that I fully understood why it had been done, he looked after me until I healed.” Crowley was looking at his hands, twisting his fingers together.

Aziraphale nodded sadly. “You still love him, don’t you?”

Crowley looked up sharply. “No. But I’m bloody terrified of him.” Aziraphale didn’t believe him. Or rather he didn’t believe the “no.”

***

Crowley looked intensely at Aziraphale and he could see the doubt in his eyes, which was fair given that he didn’t know himself whether or not he had just lied. He wondered how much he should tell him. He finished the beer and waved over at the bar for another round. There was no point asking if they had anything better here – they wouldn’t. And right now the volume of alcohol was more important than quality. Though this swill was pushing his limits.

“Ugh, look, it’s complicated as these things tend to be. I guess you could say that Lucas was a bit controlling but I really didn’t notice. And I would say that for the most part, if we had a disagreement we talked about it. Though I don’t remember ever winning any of those arguments, which, when I was away from him for a while I started to wonder about. I can beat anyone in a courtroom but couldn’t win the simplest argument with Lucas? Yes, it was controlling. But mostly I was busy with work and then I was with him. There wasn’t time for anything else and I didn’t want anything else.”

Crowley considered internally how much of a problem this was yet again. He had it under control. He thought. He hoped. 

“But well… if I did anything that he really didn’t like, well then there were consequences.”

Crowley took a deep breath, a deeper drink, and started to explain even as the memory unfolded in his mind.

8 years ago – New York

Almost a year after they had met in Eden, Crowley stood in a damp basement with five other men trying his best not to vomit. “Lucas! Please. Nothing happened I swear – why would it? I love you. You know that. I would never! Look at him – come on.” He closed his eyes and winced as another thump landed and the young man tied to the chair cried out in pain.

Lucas turned around and said, “Anthony, darling, you must keep your eyes open. It will last longer if you continue to defy me. Look.” He swallowed and opened his eyes. The room swam alarmingly and Lucas gestured to one of the other men who stepped closer to Crowley and gently held his right arm. Ben was there to stabilise him and ensure he didn’t fall. The smell was awful. He had never known that blood smelt so bad or that so much of it could come out while someone remained very conscious and begging for a beating to stop. He started to shake.

“Boss, could we maybe get another chair?” Ben asked quietly as his grip tightened on the shaking Crowley.

“There is only ever one chair in this room. You know that Ben,” Lucas replied coldly.

“Now,” continued Lucas levelly and addressing Crowley again, “I need him to admit what he did. You know what you did, darling. You allowed him to flirt with you. If I thought anything more had happened, he would already be dead. You need to learn that this is the price of not stopping this sort of thing. I won’t allow it. Do you understand, darling?”

“Yes, Lucas. Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll never… it won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now watch.” Lucas turned back to the man on the chair and punched him in the stomach again. Then he punched him in the head and then the nose. There was an audible, stomach-churning crunch as the cartilage in the man’s nose shattered. Vomit, blood and bile poured from him. It was too much for Crowley. He swayed and threw up. Ben lowered him to the floor and handed him a handkerchief to wipe his mouth. “Boss,” he said. Crowley vomitted again.

Lucas looked around and, concern in his eyes, walked to Crowley. He knelt down opposite him and stroked his face. Crowley flinched. “Darling, I know you don’t like this. Please don’t ever make this necessary again. Please – do you understand?”

Crowley nodded, unable to speak.

“We’re nearly there. He’ll talk soon and once he does you can go. You need to understand why I cannot allow you to give even a hint of being a weakness or you will become a target. You have to understand that.” He kissed Crowley gently on the top of the head and, once he knew he was looking again, slapped the man in the chair so hard that man and chair toppled to the ground.

“Ricky, do you mind, please?” Lucas gestured to the other goon in the shadows. Ricky moved forward and righted the man and chair. He stood behind him with his hands on his shoulders to keep him upright.

“Now, this can stop anytime you want. Tell me why you were trying to seduce my partner and who you work for. If you are here, you know my reputation. I do not repeat myself and this is your one chance to live.”

The man gurgled and blood dripped out of his mouth. He tried again, clearly starting to panic. Lucas rolled his eyes and gestured to Ricky. “Get him some water to clear his mouth so that he can save himself.” Ricky moved off and returned moments later with a small bottle of water and a basin. Before he could bring them to the man, Lucas knelt down and starred into his eyes. “If you do anything other than clear your mouth and spit neatly in the basin, I’ll break every bone, even the smallest ones, in both your hands. Ricky doesn’t like blood on his clothes.” The man nodded to show he understood and more blood dripped from his swollen lips. Lucas moved back to allow Ricky to hold the water bottle to his mouth and let him rinse out the blood. Crowley flinched and heaved again at the horrible organic sounds and disturbing smells. After a few further attempts, the man in the chair was finally able to rasp out an answer.

“Dagon! Dagon sent me. She wants a line to you, to know what you’re doing and who’s working with you. She thinks he’s a bit of a slut – which he clearly is; he was absolutely into it in the bar. She knew I’d be able to get in with him and then get him to tell me stuff.”

Lucas’ head tilted in that way that Crowley knew meant he was about to lose it entirely. He fought himself to keep his eyes open. Lucas was right – he’d done this by being stupid but he really hadn’t meant to flirt. As far as he was concerned he’d just been having a chat but he’d been wrong about that too. Thankfully, Lucas believed him about that but Lucas was not going to respond well to anyone calling him a slut.

Somewhat to Crowley’s surprise, Lucas turned around and regarded him with a soft smile. “Good, you are still looking. Very good. Do you understand now?”

Crowley nodded frantically, “Yes Lucas. I’m so sorry.”

The other man’s smiled deepened and became more affectionate. “Take him home, Ben. Darling, I will be home a little later. If you are not too tired, I will see you when I’m back.”

Ben helped him to his feet and steered him gently away and out of the basement. Crowley flinched when he heard the screams but kept walking and hoping that they would fade from his memory in time.

He was deposited in the penthouse and stood shaking for quite a long time. He knew what Lucas was, what he did, but seeing it was different. He was terrified. When he did manage to move, it was to run to the bathroom and vomit yet again. Once he was done, he stripped off and showered. When he finally emerged from the shower he wondered what would happen when Lucas came home. He suspected that he knew. Lucas… enjoyed… these evenings and Crowley had never really made the connection before. He had just enjoyed when Lucas came home in a highly amorous mood. He dried himself and got into bed without any clothes.

About fifteen minutes later, Lucas came in. He moved quietly and glanced into the bedroom. He must have thought Crowley was sleeping and moved off to shower. He re-entered the bedroom in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Crowley took a deep breath and, unable to talk, he moved and shrugged the bedclothes off.

“Darling, you’re awake. I thought you were sleeping. What are you doing?”

“I… I assumed… you’d want…”

Lucas looked utterly baffled and then his eyes widened. “Anthony! No! I…” He moved to the bed and pulled the cover back over Crowley. He sat down beside him outside of the sheets. “What happened tonight needed to happen. I’m sorry that it hurt you but you must learn. I would never, ever hurt you in the way you seem to be expecting. I love you and I… I would never, darling. I promise.” Crowley didn’t understand and blinked at him in confusion.

“Do you want to have sex with me right now, darling? Answer honestly, please.”

“I… n… no.”

“Then of course we do not. You are upset and possibly angry with me. Maybe even a bit afraid. It will take time for you to recover from tonight and I will wait for that. There will be nothing physical between us again until you are ready and until you come to me. Do you understand?”

Crowley didn’t. But he nodded. Lucas lay down on the bed, still outside the sheets and pulled Crowley towards him. He kissed the top of his head and held him tightly. “I love you, darling. I will have you when you are ready and when it is an act of love and devotion and desire. Not just sex. And never, ever unwilling or because of fear.” Crowley started to cry and Lucas held him close and murmured soft words of comfort to him until he fell asleep.

***

Back in the present

Aziraphale felt sick listening to Crowley’s story. “You do realise how insane he is? How controlling? How unbelievably horrible that was? Fuck! Crowley he… oh my god!” Aziraphale wanted to put his arms around Crowley and promise to protect him but he didn’t make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. Instead he ran his hands through his hair in disbelief at waht he had just heard. 

“It wasn’t really that bad. That sort of thing only happened a few times.”

“A few times? Fuck… And he made you come back to him – how long was it, that first time?”

“Three weeks. And he did wait.”

“And I suppose the other times, you “recovered” faster?”

Crowley looked away and nodded.

Aziraphale shook his head thinking how terrifying this was. Lucas was beyond manipulative, an absolute master at control. It was horrifying. Lucas made Gabriel look like a damn angel.

“What happened to the guy who had flirted with you?”

Crowley looked at his hands. “I left before the end, as I’ve said, but he killed him and sent the pieces back to his boss a bit at a time for the next few weeks. He killed him for the insult to me. If he hadn’t called me a slut and lied about me flirting back he probably would have lived.”

Aziraphale had no idea how to respond to that so instead he finished his beer.

“Fancy something stronger?”  Crowley nodded and Aziraphale got up and walked to the bar. Shax must have something half-decent here.

***

Crowley watched Aziraphale speak to the older but still striking woman behind the bar. They appeared to have an easy banter and the choice of bar suddenly made more sense to Crowley. Clearly, Aziraphale knew the owner and obviously trusted her to some extent. They looked like friends. He took a deep breath and finished the last of his unpleasant beer. He wondered if Aziraphale would come back with something better but he didn’t hold out too much hope.

Speaking in detail about Lucas was draining and he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he was being unfair; highlighting the bad stuff and not telling Aziraphale the details about the good parts. But he needed Aziraphale to understand how dangerous he was. He didn’t believe him about walking away but maybe he would if he understood this little bit that Crowley could explain. He wished he could say more. He glanced at the cop who was still chatting with the woman and worried about what he felt. He liked him far too much and wanted so badly to trust him. But Aziraphale had his own complications. He wondered how much Lucas knew about Aziraphale because it certainly wasn’t nothing. He suspected Lucas was who had caused Aziraphale to be drugged the week before. This was a mess and he wanted so badly for Aziraphale not to hate him.

Aziraphale returned to their table with a half-full bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Crowley eyed it hopefully. “Sorry, it’s not as good as I’m sure you’re used to and half-empty but it’s not a bad one. And Shax has had it so long that she cut me a deal on it. It’s Japanese!”

Crowley couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything, Aziraphale radiated joy at the simplest of things and an exotic whiskey was apparently enough to please him. How had Gabriel not just adored him when he had the chance? He was so easy to keep happy. “Quite a lot of those Japanese whiskeys are really nice. They’ve been winning prizes for years now.”

Aziraphale slipped back into his seat and shushed Crowley conspiratorially. “Don’t say that too loud or she’ll jack up the price. Apparently, the regulars don’t trust it – too fancy.” Crowley laughed brightly. God being near Aziraphale was wonderful. He sipped the whiskey and sighed. The regulars didn’t know what they were missing. This was a good one. Expensive and good were not synonyms with whiskey – not always. “This is lovely, Angel. Thank you.” Aziraphale’s smile at Crowley’s approval lit up Crowley’s existence. He didn’t know how much trouble he was in with Lucas, but he was definitely in trouble with Aziraphale. He looked down at the glass of whiskey and shuddered as he understood what he was feeling. Why could he never just meet a nice guy in a simple situation? Why did he always end up with complications? He drank again and sighed.

“Right, I may as well tell you some more because I really need you to understand how dangerous Lucas is and how much of a bad idea it is for you to be anywhere near me.”

Aziraphale looked sceptical but nodded. “All right. So what happened next?”

“Well, for the next several years, things went on largely as I’ve said. I became better and better at what I did. Several others – including the district attorney’s office – tried to recruit me but the thought of leaving Lucas never entered my head. I worked exclusively for him, slept exclusively with him and lived exclusively with him. And it was good. I’m not going to try to lie to you about that. There were a few incidents here and there of course but the next one that really stayed with me was… what was it… about five years ago? Now look, don’t give me shit for this. The bit at the start is one of the few illegal things I’ve ever actually done but it’s not a big deal. Well, not really.”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at him.

***

Crowley twisted in the chair and looked deeply uncomfortable. Aziraphale wondered what it was that he had done. Crowley didn’t break the law – he had absolutely no regard for it but he knew it backwards and used that to great effect. The clever bastard didn’t need to break it to get what he wanted.

“It had been a tough couple of months with various cases and a new prosecutor who was actually good at the job. I’d lost a case a few weeks before and wasn’t used to that at all. I was pissed off and worried that if I lost again, Lucas would be displeased or lose faith in me. So basically, I was in a shit mood and making that everyone else’s problem. Lucas had been losing patience with my mood so when I won the case that actually mattered he was delighted and suggested that I go out for the evening to celebrate the win. He was out of town at a family thing for a few days and he was clearly miserable. He doesn’t get on with his family but went to whatever it was – I don’t remember now. Anyway, I went off with some of our friends for a night out. One of the newer guys produced some high-quality coke. I don’t like drugs, don’t usually do them but for whatever reason, I did that night.”

Aziraphale looked at him, mildly surprised both at the admission and the drug taking itself.

“I know! Stupid. And I know better. Anyway, we had a good night and I arrived back at the penthouse at about 4 am, still high as a kite. Lucas was home early. He’d had a row with his father and left ahead of schedule. I hadn’t expected him back until the following afternoon. He was fucking furious when he realised I was high.”

“I’m not surprised. Dealers don’t use their own product. Were you surprised he was pissed off?”

“If I’d been able to think past the high, no I wouldn’t have been. He hated drugs. Yes, he let certian people deal in the clubs but it's never been a major part of his own business. And he most certainly didn't allow their use in his people and especially anything hard. His mum was an addict and he loved her and hated watching what it did to her. He blamed his father for her addiction – a complicated and from what I saw unpleasant family. They are loaded too so his mum’s problems were hushed up but she still died of an overdose a few years before we met. Anyway, he was absolutely livid. He shoved me in the shower, clothes and all and when the shock brought me down a bit he demanded to know what I’d taken and where I’d gotten it. The next morning we had the worst fight of our entire relationship. I threatened to leave if he spoke to me the way he was and continued to treat me like a bold child. He said he’d let me if I ever did drugs again – that he didn’t want a junkie for a partner. It was terrible. I stormed out and went to a bar downtown. It was the first time I ever thought about leaving him. But, possibly unfortunately, I also knew that he was right. That I’d been stupid. I had absolutely no intention of doing it again but I resented him telling me so explicitly what I could and couldn’t do. Anyway, a few hours later, he called me and ordered me home. I told him to fuck off and got a hotel for the night.”

Aziraphale was impressed. He’d expected Crowley to cave and return immediately. “What happened then?”

“I stayed in the hotel for a few nights. I had a court date two days later and I went to that and found Lucas waiting for me. I did the hearing and then went to leave but he caught up with me at the entrance and ordered me into his car.” Crowley stalled and licked his lips. He finished the whiskey in his glass and refilled it, topping up Aziraphale’s too.

“We drove back to the basement. Ben and Ricky were both there again. By that stage, Ben was sort of my guy. He shadowed me at court, was who drove me if I needed a car, found documents for me that sort of thing. I liked Ben but seeing him in the basement meant that he was there in case I passed out and I knew that. This time, the guy who had brought the drugs was tied to the chair. Lucas did his usual – he beat the shit out of him and I knew to watch and say nothing. Then he questioned him. It wasn’t as bad as the first time. He admitted supplying the drugs immediately and I knew that if I kept looking it would end sooner. There wasn’t as much blood this time and I only threw up once.”

Aziraphale, horrified, sipped at the surprisingly good whiskey and waited for Crowley to continue.

“Once he admitted supplying the coke, Lucas said I could go but before I left he told me to make a decision. He said that if I wasn’t at home when he got back that night, that I was to stay gone. When we got outside, Ben asked me where I wanted to go. I remember thinking briefly about leaving but well…I couldn’t. So I went back to the penthouse. I was terrified that if I wasn’t there when Lucas came home, he would never let me back so I asked Ben to collect my things from the hotel. I wasn’t completely spineless though. I slept in the spare room to piss Lucas off and we didn’t speak to each other for a few days.”

“Let me guess,” said Aziraphale who knew what was likely when too much independence was shown, too much backbone in an argument, “he apologised for arguing but told you it was because he loved you so much. That the thought of you getting hurt drove him crazy and he just wanted to protect you, yes?”

Crowley nodded. “Something like that. He also stuck to his previous promise and did nothing to try to initiate any physical intimacy with me but this time that felt like a punishment. Anyway, about ten days later, I caved and apologised for taking drugs and throwing a tantrum when he only wanted to look after me. And after we talked it out – or rather after I’d apologised enough… oh god,” Crowley paused and appeared to look back in time, “he made love to me like his life depended on it. Told me again and again how much he loved me, how much I’d scared him, how sorry he was for arguing. Sorry. Possibly too much information there.”

Aziraphale nodded sadly. He certainly didn’t have memories like that after an argument. But then again, it had never been that bad with Gabriel either, even if he saw similar patterns, similar manipulative behaviour. Gabriel had punished him with silence more than anything else and Aziraphale had found that impossible to bear. He had always given in. Just like Crowley.

“What happened to the guy?”

Crowley shrugged. “Nothing much. Lucas had him excised from the social circle and he was told to leave town. I think he went to LA.”

Aziraphale nodded. Assuming that was true, it was less severe than he expected. “That’s clearly not all. Something worse happened didn’t it?”

Crowley nodded. “That was the second time I was in that particular basement. The third time was a year or so later. 

“What happened that time?”

Crowley shuddered and the blood drained from his face. “That time, Angel, I was in the chair.”

Chapter Text

Aziraphale gasped in horror and his hand twitched, almost as if he wanted to reach out to Crowley but he didn’t. Crowley took a deep breath and explained.

“You know I said about my red lines? Well I was taking a set of papers to a guy, some property guy, that Lucas had agreed a massive deal with – several hundred million. I’d drawn up the relevant papers and was told to bring them to his hotel room. I went into the room and well, I found a woman curled up on the floor. I tried to help her. It was a bad idea on my part.”

Four Years Ago – New York

“Oh my god!” said Crowley, almost dropping his brief case. He rushed over to the blonde woman lying in a crumbled heap on the hotel room floor and covered in bruises and small cuts. He bent over her and shock her gently. “Are you ok? Well obviously you’re not but can you talk? Can you stand?” She flinched away from him. “I’m not going to hurt you. I might be able to help.” He cast around and found only torn clothes so instead he grabbed one of the dressing gowns from the bedroom and wrapped it around her. “We can’t have much time. Please, stand up. I’ll get you to a hospital and find help but he’ll be back soon. You have to move.”

She shook her head but he managed to help her stand. He found her shoes and handed them to her. She held them until he prodded her to put them on her feet. This wasn’t going well but he couldn’t leave her. He thought briefly about calling Lucas but it was his hotel, his business partner. Anger pulsed though Crowley. Lucas knew. “Come on, hurry up,” he said urgently. She moved slowly but he guided her to the door and out into the corridor. They were nearly at the elevator when the doors binged open. Crowley’s stomach flipped. The man he was there to see stepped out with Lucas behind him. Lucas looked at him in utter rage.

“What the fuck is this, Lucas? You said you had your people under control and your man here is stealing my girl?”

Lucas twitched and clenched his fists at his side. “Release her, Anthony.” He let go of the young woman who promptly slide to the floor, not looking at any of the men. “I very much hope the relevant papers are in that briefcase. Hand it to me and go upstairs. I will be up when I have concluded my business here.”

“Lucas…”

“Do NOT speak. And do not make me repeat myself.”

Crowley’s heart was racing and he felt dizzy. What was Lucas going to do? His breath was shallow and rapid as he handed the briefcase to Lucas and walked to the elevator. He went to the penthouse and sat on the living room sofa, waiting.

Several hours later, Lucas came into the penthouse and strode to Crowley. There was not a hint of affection in his eyes. “Come with me. Now. Do not say a word.”

Crowley swallowed, utterly terrified and followed him to the elevator. They arrived in the parking lot and he was directed into a car. Crowley started to shake.  A little while later, he was walking back to the basement where he had come twice before. It was damp, cold and lit only by a weak lightbulb as usual. A single, empty chair stood in the middle of the space. He looked around alarmed. Surely Lucas wasn’t going to bring the poor woman here? But then he realised that it was only the three of them – him, Lucas and Ricky, who had also acted as the driver. The absence of Ben was suddenly terrifying.

He looked at Lucas with wide, panicked eyes and shook his head in alarm.

“Sit down.”

He hesitated and looked desperately around hoping to see any evidence that the instruction had not been directed at him. He was trembling now and struggled to control his limbs.

“Lucas…” he said softly, “please.”

He got a raised eyebrow in response and Lucas gestured to Ricky who moved towards Crowley.

Crowley licked his lips and desperately tried to think of a way out of this but he knew there wasn’t one. Before Ricky reached him, he felt a tear slide down his right cheek and he stumbled towards the chair. He sat and felt Ricky pull his arms behind him and tie his wrists with a cable tie. It was tight but not biting the skin. For the barest moment he held out hope that Lucas just wanted to scare him. That was until he felt the first punch to his stomach and cried out in pain.

Lucas calmly worked over his abdomen punching him in a systematic manner that left enough time between each strike for the pain to fade so that the next impact was a fresh wave of agony. Crowley, for all the time he had spent in the underworld and even the many fights he had participated in however briefly, had never been struck so consistently or so hard. And he knew Lucas was holding back. That he was delivering a proportional beating, as far as he was concerned. Eventually, Crowley vomited and blood came with the vomit. Lucas pulled back and regarded him dispassionately. Crowley knew the questions would come next but right now, he wasn’t sure he could speak. His throat burned from coughing and vomiting.

“You know what comes next, Crowley. That is the lightest punishment I have delivered in years. I am trying, very hard, to be reasonable with you because I love you. You understand that?”

Crowley tried to speak but only a croak came out and he coughed up more blood. He nodded instead.

“Ricky, get him some water, please.”

He felt the other man withdraw and slumped in the chair. He hadn’t realised that he was being held in place. A few moments later, Ricky was dribbling tiny amounts of water between his lips.

“Can you speak now?”

“Y… yes, Lucas.”

“Good. Now, I know you know this already but I find it’s best to be precise and you may not be thinking completely clearly right now. I will ask you as many questions as I have and you will answer them to the best of your ability. If you refuse to answer or lie, I will beat you again and I will be forced to resort to my more usual standard. I will not repeat a question, though you can of course request clarification and if you do not know the answer, once I know you are not lying, I will accept that. When I have asked all my questions and received truthful answers, you will receive your punishment. Do you understand?”

“Y… yes.”

“Good. If you need a drink, ask. Now, tell me. Why did you remove the girl?”

“She… she was hurt. She’d clearly been… you know. He’d hurt her. I… I couldn’t leave her. I… you don’t usually allow that and I… it’s… it’s a red line, Lucas.”

“Your red line was always clearly stated as being unwilling to provide legal cover for those crimes. I have honoured that. Some men require that… service. I agree it is appallingly distasteful but that is the world we move in; sometimes it is unavoidable. She was paid. He was rougher than he should have been but that can happen occasionally. You do not get to decide how I sweeten deals. You’ve cost me millions tonight, Crowley.” Crowley heaved and vomited again. He was slightly concerned about the blood still pooling in the vomit. He wondered how badly hurt he was and if anything important was damaged inside.

Ricky dribbled some more water into his mouth and retreated again.

“What were you going to do with her?”

Crowley hesitated. This was going to get so much worse. Lucas raised an eyebrow and he rushed to answer.

“I… I was going to… to hide her… take the papers back and then… then bring her to hospital; have her looked after and give her money to run away.”

Lucas sat back on his heels and sighed. “She sold you out immediately. She didn’t try to protect you even a little after you tried to help her and Marcus has her back. Do you think things will go better for her, now? Likely, I’ll have a body to dump in the river in the morning. Do you know how annoying that is?”

“No, Lucas, I’m sorry.”

“Be glad I don’t make you do it.”

Lucas looked at him and Crowley could see him making the connection. He was going to kill him when he figured it out. He felt his breath shorten and come in shallow gasps. He was going to die.

“Three years ago, Crowley, another girl, that beautiful black girl, disappeared before Marcus even saw her. She had been procured particularly for him – virgins are not cheap and when they are that beautiful they are even more expensive. What happened to her?”

Crowley swallowed. He had hoped that Lucas had written that off as the girl escaping on her own. She was certainly capable enough to have managed it but she hadn’t. He was going to kill him. His breath was coming in halting gasps and his heart was racing so fast that he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack.

Lucas was nodding as if he already had the confirmation he needed.

“I… I… She was tied to the radiator in the bedroom. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She’d been slapped around but not hurt otherwise. I knew he was only expecting to see the papers and I didn’t need to be there so I left them on the table and cut her loose. I told her I could help and that if she did what I told her, I could get her out.”

Lucas had turned a shade of red Crowley had never seen on him. A vein protruded and pulsed on his forehead and his nostrils flared. “Yes,” he said with an obviously forced calm, “she had bitten Ricky when he brought her in and received a few slaps in return. Very high spirited. What did you do then?”

“I brought her to a medical centre two hours outside of the city, gave her money and told her to run.” Crowley, for the first time since he was a teenager, prayed. He prayed that Lucas believed him.

Crowley barely saw Lucas surge to his feet and the slap made him see stars.

“You have lied to me. I asked you if you knew what happened to her and you said no. You lied, Crowley.” Another slap toppled both Crowley and the chair over. He saw Lucas raise his foot and knew he was going to be beaten to death.

“Boss,” Ricky said softly. Nothing else, but Lucas stepped back, breathing heavily and still red with fury.

Crowley felt himself being righted but lost his view of Lucas as bloody trickled into his eyes. A few moments later, he felt hands cup his face and the blood was wiped gently away. He looked into Lucas’ frantic, wild eyes and wondered how long he had left to live. Lucas held his face painfully and pushed Crowley’s head backwards, forcing him to look up.

“This needs punishment, Crowley. If you were anyone else – anyone – they would find your body in pieces scattered across the city. You have lied to me, stolen an asset, tried to steal another, and cost me millions. And made it look like I cannot control my own people!” Lucas pushed Crowley’s head away and released him. He started to pace up and down clenching and releasing his fists in agitation. “I cannot leave this without consequences for you – do you understand that?”

“Yes, Lucas.”

Lucas was mumbling to himself, clearly trying to decide Crowley’s fate and increasingly erratic. “Right, Ok. It needs to be seen that I have taken action on this. Marcus will talk if he doesn’t see consequences and I cannot look like you can do whatever you want. I will not look weak Crowley. Even for you. But… but most will understand that you’re not too badly hurt. No one outside of our inner circle know about your previous infractions. We can work this out.” He moved back in front of Crowley and knelt down in front of him. “This is the third time that you have defied me. You must not ever do so again. Do you understand? If you go against me again, in even the smallest way, you will leave me with no choice.”

Crowley nodded. Lucas was calming down but no less terrifying.

“Why, Anthony? Why is this thing with the girls such a problem for you?”

He looked away and took a deep, hesitant breath but felt a surge of relief at the return of the use of his first name. Maybe he could survive this. “My… my younger sister,” he whispered.

“Sister? You’ve never mentioned a sister. What about her?”

“When we were young, one of my mother’s vile friends – one of the so-called men of god – he… he did those things to her. She... I couldn’t protect her. I didn’t know. She was dead long before I found her. When she couldn’t take any more. She was thirteen. Mother destroyed the note where she explained what had happened and said to pray on it.” Tears streamed down his face.

Lucas rocked back slightly his eyes widening in shock and shook his head looking horrified. “What!? And your mother protected… the man who did that?”

Crowley nodded.

“And you won’t touch these crimes because of this.”

He nodded again. Lucas glared at him but there was slightly less heat in it. “Why did you never tell me this?”

Crowley wanted to look away but was afraid to anger Lucas further. “You never asked. And I don’t like to talk about it. Don’t like to think about it.”

Lucas pressed his lips together tightly. “Ok. Ok… You should have told me this but I understand why you didn’t. This is a mitigation but it will only count this one time.” He looked at Crowley, for a moment, like he usually did but then the icy stare returned. “But you still must be punished for what happened tonight.”

Lucas looked at Ricky. “Untie him but hold him tightly.” Ricky complied, snapping the cable tie with the flick of a pen knife but leaving the parts still wrapped around Crowley’s wrists in place.

“Hold out your left arm, please.”

Crowley looked at him terrified and held out his arm. Lucas nodded. “Good. This will hurt.”

It happened so fast that Crowley almost didn’t believe it was real. The sound of snapping bone and the pain that shot through him took him by surprise and he didn’t immediately realise that the scream was his. Lucas stepped back from him and looked at him sadly. “Please, please don’t make anything worse necessary.” He turned to Ricky and said, “When he calms down make sure he gets to the hospital. Anthony, it goes without saying that you only remember being mugged or something.” Lucas turned away and left the basement.

Crowley didn’t remember getting to the hospital but when he woke, Lucas was sitting in the chair beside him. He looked over at him but didn’t speak straight away.

“How are you feeling, Darling?”

“I… sore but I’ll be fine.”

“The doctors say that you will be fully recovered in a few weeks. You will need another day or two here but then you can come home. The cast will be on your arm for about six weeks. It was a clean break.”

Crowley nodded.

“I will send Ben to bring you home. I will not be there. On this occassion, we both need time to recover. You have hurt me more than I thought possible. But I’m sure we will get through this.” Lucas stood, kissed him gently on the cheek and left.

***

Back in the Present

Aziraphale stared at Crowley not knowing what to say or where to even start. The other man was looking down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He moved his hands and encased Crowley’s in his. “How long before you went back to him?”

“Two days. Two days after I got back from the hospital. He wasn’t in the penthouse. There was everything I might need or want but no Lucas. I lasted two days until I rang him and begged him to forgive me, promised I’d never do anything like that again and that I just wanted him home. He came back that night and things went back to normal. He cared for me, changed my bandages and helped me with things I struggled to do with the cast. A few weeks later, he came with me to the hospital when it was removed and we went for lunch. It was like it had never happened. We never discussed what happened in the basement.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and looked at Crowley intensely. “You know none of this was your fault. You were in love and manipulated by what appears to be an absolute master.”

“Yeah well, it was also when I knew that I had to get out or eventually I’d be found dead somewhere. He loved me, Angel, he did but he’s an absolute psycho and it took me far too long to understand that. And worse, I only really cared about it when I was on the wrong end of it. He also… he let people know what had happened. It solidified his reputation and terrified the entire underworld. He used me as a message to anyone who might be thinking of crossing him. And honestly – that was what hurt most.”

Aziraphale nodded. He knew there was more but he doubted he would get it. “So what about now?”

Crowley shook his head. “Can’t tell you, Angel. You… despite the fact that you have no reason to do so, you need to trust me. And please, please walk away. I’ve told you all this tonight because I need you to understand how dangerous Lucas is and how very dangerous it is to be seen with me. And if Lucas is here we are both being watched.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “No one is watching us here.”

“You can’t be sure of that. And even if it is true, Gabriel is bad enough on his own. Just run Aziraphale. You can’t win here. Gabriel will be busy with Lucas and he won’t have time to deal with you. Run while you have a window. Don’t contact me again until this is over. If I survive, I’ll let you know but I won’t be staying in town. Don’t get attached.”

“What if I’m already attached?” Aziraphale entwined their fingers and starred at him intensely.

“Angel, don’t. I can’t, we can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “We’re outside the city, no one knows we’re here. Why not?”

Crowley starred back at him looking inscrutable. The dim lighting of the bar once again made his eyes appear to glow. “Aziraphale, do you even like me?”

Aziraphale felt his face flush slightly. Of course Crowley wasn’t interested. Once had clearly been enough. He went to release the other man’s hands but Crowley tightened his own grasp and continued to stare at Aziraphale. He arched an eyebrow, unspeakingly repeating his question.

“I suppose I don’t know, honestly. But I’m sick of doing the right thing and getting nowhere. If I’m going to do something potentially wrong, this seemed like a good option. Anyway, sorry, you’re not interested and from everything you have said tonight, I’m clearly not your type.” He felt himself becoming increasingly embarrassed as years of comments on his weight and general appearance rose from memory. He stammered on without thinking and tried to release his hand from Crowley’s suddenly iron grip. “I’m the opposite of everything you describe – not tall, thin or dark eyed and haired. Not muscular and beautiful. And certainly not dangerous or interesting. Forget I suggested anything. It’s late. We should leave.”

“Shut up Aziraphale. None of that is what I said. I asked if you actually like me. I didn’t give a litany of things I don’t like about you and I don’t think a single one of the stupid things you just said. What is true is that if Lucas finds out that I came back to see you a second time, he will kill you. Do you get that? Are you listening to me? I’m starting to get sick of repeating myself. I’ve already told you more than once that I think you are fucking gorgeous. You’re beautiful Aziraphale – both inside and out. I’ve read everything I can get on you – and it’s a lot. You’re a good person. And you are so, so beautiful to me. So fucking stop it.”

Aziraphale looked at him in shock.  Crowley looked like he was about to go on but then he wrinkled his brow and glared at Aziraphale. “How the fuck do you know what Lucas looks like? I didn’t describe him in detail and you couldn’t have seen much beyond his outline in the dark last Wednesday.”

Aziraphale swallowed nervously. Damn his stupid rambling. He glanced away. “I em… I had you both checked out, as much as I can under current circumstances and I was sent a photograph of you together. He… em… well he’s quite striking. As are you.”

Crowley looked horrified. “What did you find?”

“Enough that I think, I hope, I might be able to trust you a little with this. Not enough to be sure.”

“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong. You have no idea who I am and you shouldn’t want to. I’m not worth it. You were right when you told me I’m a snake. Trust your instincts and stay away from me.” Crowley finally released his hand and pushed the chair back roughly, clearly intent on leaving.

“I know enough for tonight,” said Aziraphale. He stood up and rounded the table just as Crowley rose from his chair. Aziraphale grasped handfuls of Crowley’s hoody and pulled him down into a kiss. Crowley, shocked didn’t respond immediately and his arms flailed for a moment. Aziraphale thought he would push him away but just as he was about to release Crowley and apologise he felt arms wrap around him and Crowley returned the kiss. A glass broke somewhere in the background but neither of them paid it any attention.

Aziraphale pulled back slightly and smiled at Crowley. “Staying?” Crowley squeezed his eyes shut but nodded. Aziraphale released the embrace and grabbed Crowley’s right hand, pulling him towards the stairs at the back of the bar. Crowley reached behind him and collected the bottle of whiskey that still had to be finished then pushed himself forward and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale as he followed him to one of the worn but clean bedrooms above the bar.

***

Shax smiled as Aziraphale led his gorgeous date upstairs. It was good to see him with someone new, even if the conversation appeared overly intense at times. She hoped he enjoyed himself. He needed a break and the redhead looked like he’d know how to give him a good time.

“Sorry,” said a smooth, slightly drunk voice from the other end of the bar. She looked around and smiled. The bar was just filled with eye candy tonight.

“What’s up gorgeous? I think you’ve had enough.”

The dark haired man smiled at her sheepishly and nodded as he shyly produced a broken glass. “Yeah, sorry, I dropped this. Em… do you have a room? I... don’t think I should drive. Had one too many, clearly.”

She smiled again. “Sure. I’ve only one occupied tonight. Let me get you a key. It’s $90 for the night, up-front.” He nodded gratefully and handed over cash in exchange for the key. “Thanks.”

***

Gabriel grinned when he saw the text notification from Lucas Morningstar. He had said it was possible Crowley would be distracted for the night but he’d let him know. Gabriel had been insisting on searching the room for ages and he finally had Morningstar’s agreement. However, he frowned as he read the message. Crowley was distracted but not how he had anticipated. Bloody Aziraphale. Was this why he still hadn’t caved in completely? Was this why he hadn’t come home yet? Some ridiculous romantic infatuation with the creep? “You ex-husband has just taken your current lawyer to bed. Search the room but do not make it obvious. You won’t find anything but at least you’ll shut up about it.” If the rumours he had heard about Morningstar and Crowley were true, Aziraphale could be in a lot of trouble – but once it wasn’t fatal, Gabriel could probably use it to his advantage. He smiled and made a phone call.

***

Tuesday morning

Crowley felt like his world had fallen apart. He was such a fucking fool. He’d believed it – believed that Aziraphale cared for him, that he wasn’t the only one to have developed feelings. And after he’d been dumb enough to tell Aziraphale so much – so much of what was deeply personal. So much that was real! He hoped Aziraphale and Gabriel had a good fucking laugh at his expense. If Lucas found out he’d told him… or worse if he found out he’d been with him more than once… he had really fucked this up. And when he was so close to resolving things too. Idiot! He intended to just sneak out but his movements woke Aziraphale. He had no intention of playing any more of his damn games. He swallowed and finished tying his plum-coloured tie.

“Thanks for last night, excellent work. Ten out of ten. Got to go to the office now though. Catch you again, I’m sure.”

Aziraphale squinted at him in the dim light that was the result of flickering street lamps though the thin curtains in the little room. “What?” He mumbled. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, honey. Just have to get to work.” He meant to leave then but he was hurt and, at heart he could be an absolute bastard sometimes. His mouth twisted into a smile that he knew didn’t touch his eyes as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Aziraphale, I have two things to say to you, and I want you to listen because I mean them both.” The angelic man looked at him in confusion and sat up a little.  Crowley moved closer and rested a hand on each side of Aziraphale. He leant down and said “One: I care about you. Too much it appears but that won’t get in the way of what I’m here to do.” He rubbed his nose gently along Aziraphale’s cheek and moved to his ear. Aziraphale leant into the touch. “Two: You are an absolutely exquisite whore. Worth every penny. The money is on the dresser.”

With that he pushed himself up, picked up his bag, and left the room.

***

Aziraphale sat in the bed in utter shock as Crowley closed the door gently. He didn’t even have the decency to slam it. He’d tried to demand that Crowley come back but the words never managed to leave his mouth. Why had Crowley spoken to him like that? Why had he just left? “Honey” sounded false and unnatural on his tongue. He felt sick. It appeared that he had bet wrong. Crowley was working for Gabriel. Or Morningstar. And he’d just handed over everything he knew. He sat up fully, trying to understand what the fuck had just happened.

He turned on the bedside light and saw ten crisp one hundred dollar bills tucked neatly under its base. He felt a surge of rage and shame wash over him. “Bastard,” he thought. He rubbed his bleary eyes and tried to tell himself that it was only sleep he was rubbing away.

A flashing light caught his attention and he noticed a text on his phone. He pushed the screen to see the notification and his stomach fell though the floor. “Thanks for providing the distraction, honey. You’re…” That was all that could be seen without unlocking the phone. Oh god, thought Aziraphale, no.

He unlocked the phone and opened the message fully. “Thanks for providing the distraction, honey. You’re just as much use when you’re being a tart as a husband xxx.”

He thought he might be sick. How had Gabriel known that he was with Crowley? Shax certainly wouldn’t have told him but had someone been watching them in the bar? Had Crowley been right about them being watched? And Crowley! He thought Aziraphale had set him up for Gabriel… it wasn’t the other way around. But how could he even explain? He didn’t even have Crowley’s number. He wanted to scream. He frantically thought though his options and even considered going to Crowley’s office – but that was far too dangerous. Maybe he could get a message to his hotel room. This was horrendous. Crowley would think everything had been a set-up, right from the beginning. He ran his hands over his face and into his hair in despair. What was he going to do?

He needed to fix this. He got up and hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t follow Crowley to the office, so he needed to think of something else. He sighed and decided that a shower was the best option. As the lukewarm water sprayed over him, he desperately tried to decide what to do. He absolutely had to speak with Crowley – assuming he would even look at him. He dressed quickly and went back into the bathroom to wash his teeth, still undecided about how to proceed. 

He was lost in agonised thought and didn’t hear the bedroom door open softly. He didn’t hear the almost silent footsteps across the room and didn’t feel the surgically delivered blow to the back of his head. He didn’t hear the soft tones of a man he had never spoken to say “That’s more than enough of your interference. You’re causing far too much trouble. I can’t have you confusing my dear Anthony. And it’s long past time that we had a private chat.”

***

Crowley sat in the taxi he had ordered while getting dressed as it drove back to Sanctuary and did his best to hold back tears. Theoretically, he shouldn’t have looked at the notification on Aziraphale’s phone when he got up to use the loo half an hour ago but well he was never not going to look. And at least he knew now.  He was such a fucking moron. Of course Aziraphale had been a plant from the beginning. Of course he had.

He could at least stop feeling guilty about Aziraphale’s public humiliation and suspension. And he’d believed he was broke and living in a trailer! Fucking Hell. He’d lapped the whole thing up – the righteous cop trying to stop his ex-husband’s law-breaking and violence; the soft, beautiful lover who wanted nothing more than to be cared for and provide care in return; the clever, funny, bit of a bitch engaging conversationalist with a tragic past just waiting to be rescued. It was like they’d designed him specifically for Crowley and he’d fallen for it.

He assumed that Gabriel had now ransacked his hotel room and probably found the phone. But that wasn’t a huge problem. The really big problem was that Lucas was here and he had absolutely no support. And he’d broken the rule; after three years of not doing so, he’d broken the damn rule while Lucas was in the same city and for nothing more than a cheap set up.

“Sorry pal,” said the taxi driver, “You only said Sanctuary. I’ve got to make decisions now. Where in the city are we going?”

Crowley hesitated for a moment. Part of him wanted to go back to the hotel and see what Gabriel had found but that was largely pointless and he’d find out soon enough anyway. “Downtown, Mayor’s building.”

“Sure thing,” said the driver, looking like he was about to talk at Crowley who simply couldn’t bear it. “Look, it’s been a long night and going to be a shit day. I don’t mean to be rude but I really don’t want to talk. There’s $100 dollars in it for you if it’s a quite ride.”

The driver nodded and drove on in silence while Crowley slumped in misery in the backseat.

***

The taxi pulled up outside of the Mayor’s building twenty minutes later and Crowley hoped he could get up to his office, shower and change before he met anyone. It was 6.45 am so there was a good chance that he could.

But hope proved to be as fickle a lover as Aziraphale and of course Gabriel was sitting at Crowley’s desk when he came in.

“Morning sunshine. You’re in early.”

Crowley, noticing his second phone sitting on the desk in front of Gabriel, decided to brazen it out. “Yeah well, didn’t get back to the hotel last night but you already know that. You were right about Aziraphale – he could be a pro. Great lay. Though the whole boyfriend experience – your nonsense about him being frigid to make it all feel special – appreciated but not necessary. I don’t usually partake in recreational activities mid-job but I really hate this shithole town so the distraction was pleasant. But that will be all now. I’m not into whatever humiliation kink you two have going on – though it’s impressive that you play it out with the whole city. Top marks but keep me out of it in future.”

Gabriel pressed his lips together looking furious. He appeared to take a moment to gather himself.

“I see. And how have you come to this conclusion?”

“Oh come on! You may as well have put a bow on him and had him delivered to my hotel room. But of course then you couldn’t have searched it. I don’t like the dive bar thing, just for future reference, but it fits with the fiction of him being broke. Anyway, as I said, keep your games to yourselves in future. I want to finish the job here and get the Hell out of this kip. Now what do you want?”

A range of emotions passed over Gabriel’s face too fast for Crowley to identify them all but he settled on smug. “I want to know why you have a secret phone and who the fuck you are actually working for.”

Crowley leaned against the wall of his office, folded his arms, crossed his right leg over the left and rolled his eyes. He gestured for the phone.

“Oh no. Tell me the code and I’ll open it.”

Moron, thought Crowley, maybe I should give him the code that will fry it instead of open it, just to see the look on his face.

“280490” This code would open only the messaging app and the phone would look barely used. Other codes opened more functional versions, could destroy the phone entirely, or could send emergency signals. Crowley had though it was stupid when it was explained to him a few years ago but he was thankful for it now.

“And whose birthday is that?”

“My wife’s.”

Gabriel looked stunned. “You’re fucking what?”

“Wife. My wife. Don’t look so shocked Gabriel. I have a wife. Not anywhere near here. I don’t mix work and domestic life, unlike some.”

“You’re gay.”

“And I have a wife. Two things can be true at the same time.”

Gabriel was looking at him with his mouth slightly open as he tapped in the code. He looked down at the phone and opened the message app. “M – that’s the only person who texts you?”

“Yup. Because she is the only one with the number. Short for Michelle, as I’m sure you’re wondering. She’s nowhere near here and you won’t find her. No one in my work life knows about her. So well done, you’re ahead of all the other scumbags I’ve worked for.”

Gabriel was clearly scanning the messages that went back three years. They were a mix of sweet, domestic and occasionally irate.

“There are no photos or anything else on this.”

“Of course not,” sneered Crowley. “In case anyone ever found it – you know, like right now?”

“And what about this – the night you arrived. “A delightful hotel. Nice and secure.” That’s a weird thing to text your wife.”

“Is it? She likes to know I’m safe – given the work I do.”

“Oh? She knows what you do? Does she know who you do?”

Crowley rolled his eyes again. “Are you really going to chastise me for infidelity? It’s an open marriage, obviously. We barely see each other but she needed a visa and I needed a wife to shut my horrible mother up. And we get on. I visit between jobs when I can.”

Gabriel looked confused and irritated.  “You can’t get anyone a visa. You’re British.”

Crowley groaned theatrically. “God you are one stupid son-of-a-bitch Gabriel. I couldn’t think as slow as you if I tried. I’m a duel citizen. Father was American. This is really not complicated. Though, I understand it seems that way to you. Michelle and I met a number of years ago and I married her so she that could stay here and I could get my wretched mother off my back and not lose inheritance when she finally does the world a favour and goes to meet her god. Do you understand or would you like me to get some crayons and draw it out for you?”

Gabriel went red and glared at him. “So this is just the phone you use to contact your – what sort of fake wife that you actually like? What sort of a marriage is that?”

Crowley snorted and said “Glass houses Gabriel.”

The Mayor glared at him and shoved the phone across the desk. He picked it up and texted “All going well here, hope to be done on schedule but might run later. I’ll come visit then. Hope you’re behaving yourself darling.” He turned the screen around for Gabriel to see and pressed send. With a great sense of relief that Gabriel was too stupid and arrogant to give the phone to someone with even basic technical expertise, or worse to Lucas, he put it in his inside jacket pocket and smirked at the mayor.

Crowley decided to push his luck. “Did you find anything else when you searched my room?”

Gabriel looked embarrassed and didn’t respond.

“No? Of course you bloody didn’t. If you do that again, I’m walking. I’ve had just about enough of this town and your bullshit. It’s in my contract – if I’m not happy I walk. The room better be both spotless and bugless when I get back there this evening. If it’s not – I’m gone. And I will check.”

Gabriel swallowed. “No. No. We need you here. Ok fine. I’ll leave it alone. You seem to be on the level. Just do your job.”

“That is what I’ve been trying to do. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to have a shower and change before the rest of the office come in and wonder why I’m in yesterday’s clothes. And,” he laughed lightly, “I’m sure you don’t want anyone asking why I smell like you pretend ex.” Gabriel looked furious as Crowley walked behind him and took down the spare suit he had left hanging on one of the shelves. He smiled at Gabriel and sauntered off to the showers in the office gym a few floors below.

Chapter Text

Week 3 Wednesday

Aziraphale became vaguely aware of softness and moved slightly. He wasn’t sure where he was. Was Crowley here? Ah yes, he must be. A vague smile settled across his lips. He remembered the previous evening. Somehow, it had been even better than the first night. Vague impressions of passionate touches and gentle caresses passed before his unopened eyes. He moved backwards slightly, looking for the warmth of the other body that should be there but found only a cold wall. “Crowley?” he mumbled. There was no response. He tried to move his arms but couldn’t. Why are my arms stuck? As he came closer to being fully awake he felt pain in his head.  He blinked his eyes open to a dimly lit room.

“Hello, Detective Fell,” said a soft, cultured American voice from the shadows.

He blinked again and became fully aware of his throbbing head. He tried to speak but his throat was dry and he only managed to wheeze.

“It is interesting to me,” said the voice, “that upon waking in a strange place, your first thought is to look for Crowley. I will have questions about that later.”

Aziraphale turned his head and focused on the outline of a man leaning against the wall several feet away from him. He felt a rush of fear. Even in the half light, Aziraphale recognised the tall, slim man with thick black hair. He was several years older than in the photograph with Crowley but he was unmistakable. I’m going to die.  Lucas Morningstar pushed himself off the wall with a fluid, graceful movement and swayed towards Aziraphale. He pulled him roughly into a sitting position on what Aziraphale now realised was a mattress lying directly on the floor. He was shoved against the cold wall.

“You should stay awake. You have a concussion. I do not care whether you live or die but Gabriel does, apparently. He is part of the reason that you are still alive. That and my curiosity. I will send someone with food and water in a while. I’m sure you would also appreciate a visit to the bathroom and that will be arranged too. I’m not unreasonable, despite what you may have heard. We will speak when you are more able to do so. In the meantime, I invite you to consider your surroundings and the fact that no one – not a single person outside of me and my people – knows where you are. You and I have plenty of time to become acquainted.” He turned away and left.

***

Day (or days) – Unknown

Aziraphale, despite his concerns about the pain in his head and the concussion, drifted in and out of sleep. Two cable ties were secured tightly around his wrists and a third was used to link them together behind his back like handcuffs.  Small amounts of bland food were brought to him and his hands were untied so that he could eat, drink and eventually relieve himself. Then he was pushed back onto the mattress with his hands once again fastened behind his back.  The room remained lit only by the dim, flickering light bulb that swung slowly with a draft from a blacked-out window far above him. No natural daylight entered the room and the light bulb was left on constantly. He had no idea how much time was passing. All he knew was that he was alone, hungry and increasingly scared.  

He did not ask any questions or make any demands of the men who periodically entered the small room where he was being held. He knew they would not answer. He had remembered the events of Monday night fully but it was Tuesday morning that lingered in his mind and upset him. He needed Crowley to know that he had not set him up. He worried about what his confinement here meant but suspected that he was unlikely to survive it. He didn’t want to die while Crowley thought he had used and betrayed him.

Aziraphale felt wretched. He knew he should be terrified, and he was, but he hated that just as he had felt that there was something real, something potentially wonderful – however short-lived – between him and Crowley, it had been snatched away and likely destroyed by Gabriel. He didn’t understand how Gabriel had known to send the text or what it meant. What distraction had he accidentally provided? He sighed and rested his thumping head against the wall. Everywhere hurt and he was increasingly irritated at his arms being tied behind his back. It wasn’t like he could do anything even with his hands free. They were tied to show him that he couldn’t even scratch himself without the blessing of his captor. And he knew that.

The door to the left of where he was sitting on the mattress opened and a stocky bald man brought a cheap-looking plastic chair into the room. He left it under the swaying light bulb and moved towards Aziraphale. Aziraphale stifled a groan as he was pulled to his feet and pushed towards the chair. The man cut Aziraphale’s hands loose but only so that he could pull his arms behind the back of the chair and re-tie him securely. Aziraphale glared at him but didn’t say anything. The man left without a word. Aziraphale felt himself start to panic. He knew what was likely to happen next from his conversation with Crowley and he didn’t have anything of value to even tell Lucas. Then again, if Crowley was right, nothing he could say would matter because the crime was not anything he knew but what he had done.

After what Aziraphale thought to be a few minutes later but could have been longer, the door opened again and Lucas walked in.

“You appear more awake now. I will explain what is going to happen and then we will talk.” Aziraphale stared at him wordlessly. Lucas Morningstar smiled.

“I have been trying to determine what he sees in you, but I think I’m starting to understand at least a little. We’ll get to that though. I will ask you questions and you will answer. As a favour to your ex-husband, I am not starting as I usually would. I am not starting this with a beating. I hope you have learned enough to know that this is unusual. Gabriel would like you back in one piece. I don’t care. If you do not answer me, I will return to my standard methodology. I have agreed only to give you the opportunity to avoid being beaten. So, we will begin. Do you know who I am?”

Aziraphale considered refusing to answer but after Crowley’s horrifying descriptions of Lucas’ methods, he decided against that as an opening strategy. He was exhausted, sore and entirely alone. His top priority right now had to be survival. He nodded.  Lucas pressed his lips together in irritation.

“I want answers in words, Detective Fell.”

Aziraphale tried to answer but only managed to croak a vague noise from his dry throat. Lucas rolled his eyes and moved off to the side. He came back with a water bottle and held it to Aziraphale’s mouth. He drank, trying not to appear grateful.

“My apologies, Detective Fell. I meant to ask Ricky to get you a drink but it slipped my mind. Let’s start again. And let me give you the rest of the rules. I will ask you as many questions as I have and I require truthful answers. If you refuse to answer or lie, I will beat you. If you need clarification – ask. If you do not know the answer – say so. I do not repeat questions. Now, let’s try again. Answer my question.”

Aziraphale struggled to control his breathing. Crowley had advised him to run, had warned him how dangerous Lucas was and he should have listened. He must know that they had slept together and Crowley had been terrified of that possibility. “Ye… Yes. You are Lucas Morningstar.” Lucas smiled grimly.

“Good. And who is Lucas Morningstar, as far as you understand it?”

“You’re a thug.” Aziraphale swallowed nervously and continued, “A gangster and a criminal.”

Lucas huffed a laugh. “How predictable. Yes, from your limited perspective I suppose I am those things. I certainly have no interest or regard for the laws you attempt to uphold. Do you know more about me?”

Aziraphale licked his slightly cracked lips and considered what to say. He didn’t really know much but that would clearly not be accepted as an answer. “I know that you are of extreme interest to the FBI but they can’t ever get anything concrete on you. And that the criminal underworld is terrified of you.”

The smile widened. “Good. An honest answer. You have been problematic for quite some time. I would have liked to have you on board – you would be useful and easier to work with than your idiot ex-husband – but everyone says that you won’t take a bribe or break the law. Is that true?”

Aziraphale swallowed and felt his face heat slightly. “Usually,” he said, “and I will not help you.”

“Usually? Interesting. I want to know more about that later and I want to know how much you have learned about my business interests in Sanctuary but, as I am sure you know, I also have questions of a more personal nature. And we have lots of time to talk so we do not have to cover everything right now.”

Aziraphale felt his heart beat faster. He was in serious trouble here.

“How many times have you slept with Crowley?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business. You and Crowley are not together.”

The punch to his stomach knocked the wind out of him and he gasped in pain. He struggled to breathe as he looked up at Lucas.

“Remember now, I do not repeat questions.”

“Twice,” he gasped. “Two nights.”

Lucas’ mouth twisted in anger and he glared at Aziraphale. He lowered himself to look directly into Aziraphale’s eyes. He felt like he was looking into the pits of Hell.

“Did Crowley mention our arrangement?”

“What? No. He said you were together in New York but not after that. He said it was dangerous for us to be seen together, but that much was obvious and true from my side of things as well. I don’t know what you mean by an arrangement.”

“I see. Crowley is not free. He is mine. For various reasons, mostly to extend my influence and also to protect him, he was told to give the appearance that we are no longer a couple. Apparently, he had done that very successfully. He was not meant to go back to any one night stand. And for three years, he has abided by that agreement. So what is it about you – do you think – that made him come back to you when he was expressly forbidden from returning to someone for a second night? What makes you worth the risk of my displeasure?”

Aziraphale knew he was looking at Lucas in disbelief. “You’re mad!” He heard ribs crack on the next series of impacts into his right side and couldn’t repress a scream.

***

“I don’t think this will work. He’s not going to talk easily. I think I might kill him before he talks. We need to try something else.”

“Boss, we still need Gabriel and you’ve said yourself, he could be useful if he can be brought onside. Not straight away, but eventually.”

“I really want to kick the shit out of the bastard. How fucking dare he?! Anthony has a lot of explaining to do.”

“We could ease things along a little. We think we have the dose now.”

“Humm… but he had a bad reaction the last time. Really bad. If he dies, it will attract attention we don’t want right now. And whining from Gabriel that I don’t want to listen to at all.”

“He won’t. The Prof is sure it will work – not fast, it needs to build up if you give it a little at a time – but he said it will work if we do what he says.”

“The Prof is a prick.”

“But necessary.”

“Fine. Do it. But we’ll mix in other methods. The drug won’t work on its own with this one. Keep the light on all the time, no one is to mention the day or what time it is in his hearing, feed him as little as possible and irregularly and no one is to speak to him other than me without my permission. Don’t let him sleep more than 30 minutes or so. I will break him into fucking pieces, one way or the other.”

“Yes boss.”

***

Aziraphale dozed in the chair but didn’t sleep.  It seemed that every time he was almost asleep, there was a loud bang or a burst of music that made him jolt fully awake. He was exhausted and his ribs were extremely sore. He assumed he’d been left like this as punishment for not being compliant enough. Lucas was horrifying. How could Crowley have loved him and stayed with him for years? He couldn’t understand it. Why had he not left? He wondered if he had been wrong about him – maybe he was everything he seemed. A mob lawyer in love with the boss and just as bad in his own way. But that didn’t fully add up and Crowley appeared to be playing more than one side in whatever this game really was. The more he thought it over, the less he believed that Crowley was FBI but he thought he might be something else. And that was probably even more dangerous. Whatever he was, Aziraphale wouldn’t be the one to tell Lucas anything he might not know. Crowley already thought Aziraphale had betrayed him and he didn’t want that to become true.

Lucas’ goon came into the room after a while, slapped him fully awake and gave him water. Nothing more. Aziraphale asked to use the bathroom and was facilitated but he was tied back to the chair immediately afterwards. He sat there thinking and dozing as the pain in his ribs grew increasingly agonising.

Lucas re-entered the room and walked towards him. “I hope you are going to be more co-operative this time. I don’t want to have to explain to Gabriel that you died from stubbornness. He’ll whine and I’m already sick and tired of that. How did you listen to him for so long?”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh slightly and regretted it immediately as his ribs burned. He winced. “It… it wasn’t easy and I don’t miss it.”

Lucas grinned at him and looked utterly beautiful doing it. “Do you trust Anthony?”

“Who,” asked Aziraphale wincing against the pain in his right side and momentarily confused.

“Crowley. I call him by his first name. You, of course, do not. Do you trust him?”

Aziraphale looked around trying to think about how to answer that question.  What answer would keep Crowley safest and what was the truth? Conveniently, it was the same answer to both. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t know what to make of him at all.”

Lucas nodded. “Understandable. He is complex. Do you want Gabriel back?”

“No. And I have told him that.”

“Humm. He wants you back enough to make it a preferred condition of our agreement. I have said that I will try but cannot guaranteed your survival. You may not have a choice other than to go back. Well not much of a choice – go back or be found dead. What do you think of those options?”

“Do I have to decide now?”

Lucas laughed. “Oh I am starting to see why Anthony enjoys you. I might like to understand more. I want to know why he returned to you.” He moved smoothly towards Aziraphale and knelt in front of him. He placed his hands on his legs and opened them, moving himself to kneel between his thighs. “You’re quite pretty. The blond curls are lovely and the intelligent bright blue eyes are certainly attractive. The stubble is also visually pleasing. I imagine your beard is delightful when it grows in. I look forward to seeing it.” His hands moved slowly up Aziraphale’s legs and rested at his waist. Aziraphale felt his heat rate skyrocket and fear surged though him. He’d never felt so vulnerable in his life.

Lucas moved closer and whispered into Aziraphale’s left ear. “Gabriel complains that you’re carrying a bit of weight these days but Anthony clearly didn’t mind, so I don’t see why I would.” He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly onto Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale felt the hairs rise along the line that Lucas drew with his breath. “Did he describe our sex life to you in any detail?” Lucas’ hands moved around the back of Aziraphale’s body and down slightly, slowly caressing the very base of his spine. Aziraphale was trying very hard not to panic.

“He… n… not in detail. Just that it was incredible. That he enjoyed it very much.”

“Mmmm…. Yes, it was and will be again.” Lucas’s nose made contact with Aziraphale just below his left ear and he flinched.

“You have had him more recently than me. I can almost smell him on you. I shouldn’t have let you shower. How was it?”

Aziraphale was terrified and felt himself struggle to breathe slowly. His stuttering breaths were causing his ribs to ache even more. Surely Lucas wouldn’t continue with this? He didn’t know how to respond.

“Don’t make me repeat a question,” he whispered as he nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck. 

Aziraphale swallowed and tried to hold in his fear. “Wonderful. It was wonderful.”

“Would you like to fuck him again?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I barely know him. How could I be in love with him?” Yes, he thought to himself.

“Love often benefits from a lack of knowledge of the other person. Did getting to know Gabriel make you love him more?”

Aziraphale snorted and then hissed in pain. “I see what you mean. After a certain point, no it didn’t. But I don’t know. I am very attracted to Crowley but he… well he’s like you. He’s a crook. I don’t think I could love a crook.”

“But you could fuck one.”

“Apparently.”

“Would you allow me to fuck you? I’d like to see why he went back to you.”

Aziraphale thought he might die. This couldn’t be happening.

“I… would prefer that you not. But I’m not in any position to stop you.”

Lucas pushed back and laughed. “You’re brave. I like that. I imagine that Anthony has enjoyed it too. He’s attracted to strength almost as much as to being cared for.  Don’t worry. I don’t do that. I’ll kill you if you annoy me too much but you’re safe from that sort of thing. And anyway, if I did that to you or allowed it to be done by another, I suspect it would anger Anthony who might then do something stupid and he’s in enough trouble as it is. I may give you the option of working for me, returning to Gabriel or being found having died of an overdose from something interesting under one of the bridges in this shithole town. You can consider that for a while now.” He got up and left the room. Aziraphale felt himself slump in relief. He didn’t remember ever being more scared in his life.

A few minutes later, one of Lucas’ thugs entered the room with slightly better food, water and pain killers. He cut Aziraphale lose and left. Clearly, his honestly was being rewarded. Aziraphale took the pain killers with the water but ignored the food. He felt like throwing up as he moved to lie down on the mattress.

***

Sometime later, the door opened again and a second, more comfortable office-style chair was wheeled into the room. Aziraphale looked at it in confusion and didn’t move from the mattress. His head didn’t hurt as much but the ribs on his right hand side still burned and he felt oddly groggy. He sat looking at the clearly brand new office chair and wondered if Advent had been confused by delivering actual furniture or if it was bought locally.  

Lucas re-entered the room a while later and moved the larger, padded chair in front of the smaller plastic one. He stood behind it with his hands resting on the back. “I’m not used to having two chairs in this sort of environment and I don’t think I like it, but I’d rather have a more casual chat with you, if possible. I’d like you to just answer my questions without having to encourage you to do so. The rules remain in place, but let’s try this nicely, first. I am generally a reasonable man. What do you think?” He pointed to the other chair as he sat in the gently swivelling office chair.

“OK,” said Aziraphale who felt off-balance both mentally and physically. He gritted his teeth against his burning ribs as he hauled himself off the mattress.  He swayed as he stood and a wave of nausea crashed over him. Probably because he hadn’t eaten enough. Lucas made no comment while he shuffled to the chair and sat down.

“Good. I have quite a lot that I want you to tell me, so if we can do this pleasantly it will be better for us both. How much do you know about the over-lapping business interests that I share with your ex-husband?”

Aziraphale regarded Lucas warily. He had no illusions that he would be beaten if he didn’t answer but this was entirely out of character from everything that Crowley had told him. This seemingly reasonable attitude had to be an act. He licked his lips and tried to think. Lucas smiled very slightly.

“I’m not really sure. I know that Gabriel was bribing, beating and removing people who wouldn’t sell property to him along the Waterfront – where we are now I assume – and I know that it has something to do with the furniture company – Advent – but I don’t know what it delivers. Apart from that chair you’re sitting in, I haven’t seen anything that looks like it came from a furniture company around here. I suspect he has had people killed – I’m certain about one of the prosecutors about 18 months ago but I can’t prove it. Clearly the Waterfront is important for something – maybe setting up a new operation or hiding things. I don’t know. I suspect that you want to set up manufacturing of that new drug you’ve introduced to Sanctuary but that seems fairly high risk so you’ll need a cover and maybe property development is enough for now.  Whatever it is, if you’re here, it’s bigger than it seems and it’s not Gabriel who is running things. He’s in it up to his neck but I don’t even know enough to have him questioned, never mind arrested. I’ve gotten nowhere. I would think that was obvious.”

Lucas nodded. “What do you mean “if I’m here”? Do you think I’m above beating people who won’t sell property I want?”

“No. Honestly, I think you’d kill anyone who wouldn’t sell if you really wanted to buy somewhere. Crowley said you are beyond Gabriel’s low-key nonsense so there must be something more.”

“Did he, indeed? His tongue is looser than it should be. And why do you trust his assessment?”

Aziraphale sighed. “It seemed believable and to be fair, you have me tied to a chair in a basement.”

Lucas’ lips twitched. “You’re not currently tied to anything. Stop being so dramatic. When he told you about me, was it pillow talk or talk in the bar the other night?”

Aziraphale felt his throat go dry. He coughed slightly. “Can I pause to get a drink?”

Lucas nodded. Aziraphale pulled himself out of the chair and shuffled to where he had left the water bottle. He drank and brought the bottle back with him as he returned to his seat. The movement made his ribs hurt.  “It was when we spoke in the bar. He was trying to impress upon me that you are very dangerous and much above the usual crap that Gabriel runs in Sanctuary.”

Lucas leant back slightly. “I see. So Crowley has told you that I am a criminal – which is true; that I am terrifying and capable of dreadful things – also true; and that Gabriel is beneath me – true again. What do you think about that?”

That I wish I’d listened to him and run. “That he was right.”

“Do you trust the things he told you?”

“I suppose. More or less.”

“Why?”

Aziraphale considered for a moment. “I don’t really know. It seemed true? I don’t know why he would bother to lie to me.”

The left side of Lucas’ mouth curled slightly. “I see. What did he tell you about me personally?”

Aziraphale watched Lucas warily and considered what to say. “That you are very clever, controlling, can be cruel and are apparently a generous and wonderful lover. That you treated him well once he stayed in line and that you punished him dreadfully if he didn’t.”

“Did he tell you about the basement? And if so, how much?”

Aziraphale wanted to say no. He didn’t want to admit to knowing about these more personal and horrible events. But he suspected that Lucas already knew he knew and lying could be terminal. “Yes. He said he was there with you three times. He told me roughly what happened there, what you did and how he reacted to it.” Aziraphale didn’t want to say too much more for fear of Lucas’ reaction. He had to view this sort of information as a betrayal; however, he didn’t react the way Aziraphale expected.

“I sound like a nightmare,” said Lucas lightly and he swung himself gently on the chair, moving it side-to-side as he appeared to consider all of this. “Did he tell you about how we made up after disagreements? After visits to the basement?”

Aziraphale felt himself start to tremble slightly. He was also starting to sweat despite not feeling all that warm. He took another sip from the water bottle to stall for a moment. He nodded and at Lucas’ raised eyebrow quickly said, “Yes. But not in detail.”

“Would you like the details? The making up after the second – event – let’s say, was phenomenal. After he finally accepted responsibility for taking cocaine and admitted how stupid he’d been, he still didn’t come to me. Not like he had done previously. He decided to torture me instead.”

Aziraphale felt his brows knit in confusion. Lucas smiled. “Ah he didn’t tell you this bit. Of course he didn’t. Anthony, please try to remember, is a spectacular lawyer. The best I’ve ever come across. That means he is a master of words and their use, abuse and manipulation. He doesn’t often lie because he seldom needs to. He lets people take their own meaning from what he says and fill in gaps that they don’t even notice are there. He is not – and this is important – a delicate, wounded little bird. He is a bastard. Just as much as me, if in a different way. He is not, and this is very important for you, particularly trustworthy.”

Aziraphale’s head was starting to pound again and he was struggling to keep up with the conversation. Had Crowley left gaps in what he’d told him? He probably had but was it on purpose or because there hadn’t been enough time to explain everything? He felt groggy and he couldn’t figure this out now.  Did Aziraphale trust him? Yes… because of what he knew and more because of what he suspected. Was that enough? Not really.

Lucas nodded sympathetically. “Yes, he’s very hard to read until you know him better. Let me tell you what he did, the bastard,” he said with a warm smile. He sat back further in the chair, his gaze softening and he grinned in anticipation of describing his recollections. “Anthony doesn’t like overt violence – or more to the point, he doesn’t like seeing it. So the basement incidents were particularly distressing for him. I always promised him that sex would not be initiated by me until he was fully recovered from a trip to the basement. He would have to come to me. This was to protect him, make him feel safe with me. He appreciated it. But he was really annoyed about the cocaine incident. He knew he’d been wrong and stupid and that I was right but I admit I could have handled it better. I let previous upsetting experiences drive my reaction and that wasn’t fair to him. We were both unreasonably stubborn about the whole thing. He viewed the punishment – the visit to the basement – as unfair because to Anthony it was a personal infraction, not a professional one and the basement was for professional infractions. He resented it. Even after we had fully resolved the problem, talked it out and agreed that we were ok as a pair, he didn’t touch me as I had expected.

“Instead, he clarified the rule with me – made sure that I meant direct physical contact from him to me. That I meant his skin must touch mine at his direction before anything else would happen. I said that I did. All I wanted in that moment was for him to reach out and take my hand or kiss me. Anything. I hadn’t touched him in over two weeks at that point and it was driving me crazy. Rather than just come to me, he spent the next several hours undressing me without actually making contact, breathing on me in the most erotic ways you can imagine – or possibly you can’t since you spent so long with Gabriel – and touching me with anything other than his flesh. I never found out where he got the damn feather.” Lucas laughed softly before continuing. “He was devastating when he wanted to be and the bastard made me kneel in front of him and beg. He made me beg him to touch me, to kiss me, to fuck me. He made me describe everything I wanted him to do to me, everything I wanted to do to him in excruciating detail as he let only his breath caress me. For hours. Frankly it was magnificent. Even if it did nearly kill me. He fucks angry so very well. But I preferred when he wasn’t mad at me.”

Aziraphale knew his eyes were wide and he was breathing harder than he would like. Other parts of him were embarrassingly interested in Lucas’ story and he saw the other man’s eyes linger on his crotch and then smile at him.

“Would you like him to do that to you?”

“I don’t think I’d last long under those circumstances.”

Lucas laughed brightly again. “I lasted for hours. He made sure of it. Taking me to an unbearable edge and then backing off. Allowing no relief. When he did finally touch me, we made love for hours. It was incredible.” Lucas closed his eyes and shuddered slightly. He smiled and looked directly at Aziraphale again.

“I’m telling you this, not to make you jealous – though I do hope you are at least a little – but so that you know he isn’t entirely trustworthy in how he related our life together. But most importantly, don’t believe for a second that our relationship was uneven or that I held a power over him that he didn’t hold over me. We were unbalanced only in our working relationship – I was and remain the boss and in the underworld that means certain things, certain punishments are required from time to time – but in our personal lives, Anthony had at least as much control of me as I had of him. Don’t be fooled by his wide-eyed innocent act. And remember – he always knew, right from the beginning, who I was and what I did. He enjoyed the work as much as the relationship.”

Lucas stood up and left, leaving Aziraphale’s head spinning. He really didn’t know Crowley at all.

***

“We’re definitely making progress. He is slowing down, struggling to think and more confused. This is going to take quite a while though. It’s already been what nearly six days? But we’re getting there. How the fuck do I say his ridiculous first name?”

“Most people just call him Az, boss.”

“Anthony doesn’t.”

“Eh, right. I think it’s A – zeer – a – fell or fail I’m not sure boss. I can ask Gabriel.”

“No! I don’t what him to ask why. He’ll want to see him and I don’t need that moron messing this up. I’ll be careful to listen when I speak with him again tomorrow.  Keep the drug in the water. Fell doesn’t notice it. I still don’t know if it’s helping or hindering but we may as well keep going for now.”

“Yes boss.”

***

Aziraphale moved back to the mattress and tried to think. It was harder than usual to do so. He hadn’t eaten much and was in pain approaching agony. Lucas was a thug but more reasonable than he had expected. And Crowley – what to think about Crowley? It’s not as if Aziraphale had expected him to have been unhappy in his relationship and he believed what he had told him in the bar but the version of Crowley that Lucas presented was much less afraid and much more engaged than the one Crowley described. He didn’t know who to believe or what to think. Had anyone told him anything approaching the truth in the last few months?

He wondered if Gabriel had noticed that he was missing – or if he would even care. Had he really tried to negotiate his life with Lucas? He wished he knew how much time was passing but he had no idea. Maybe he wasn’t here long enough for anyone to notice his absence. Then again, given that he was suspended from work and his last interactions with both Gabriel and Crowley did not invite future ones, it could be a very long time indeed before anyone noticed he was gone. No help was coming.

The door opened again and a new man entered. He walked over to Aziraphale and placed a large bag on the ground. “Sit up,” he said without preamble. “Open your shirt.”

Aziraphale did as he was told without speaking and winced as the man gently examined him. He pulled out a large bandage and wrapped it around his lower ribs. The pressure immediately helped with the pain. Before the man left, Aziraphale took a chance – he was exhausted. “Would you ask Lucas if the light could be turned off for a time?”

The man stood up and looked at him briefly but left without answering.

Water and bread were brought later and the small door to the little but very secure bathroom was left open for him. He was confused and frightened and didn’t understand why he wasn’t being beaten to death. He lay down and tried to sleep but loud bangs from somewhere nearby meant he could only manage a light, fitful doze.

***

The slap roused Aziraphale and made his ears buzz. He couldn’t see properly but felt himself hauled to his feet. His arms were pulled behind him and he was held fast. Another slap snapped his neck around and he felt blood trickle down from the left corner of his mouth. A punch to the stomach made him gasp and he hoped desperately that whoever was hitting him would avoid his broken ribs. Another slap echoed though the room and left his face stinging. He blinked and saw a young man he didn’t recognise. He was punched in the stomach again and received another slap and then pushed back onto the mattress. The two men left and Aziraphale struggled to breathe.  Not a single word had been uttered by either man thought out the rapid beating.

***

Aziraphale jerked fully awake as Lucas shook him gently. “Time for another chat, Detective. Please relocate yourself to your chair. I apologise for the unfortunate incident with two of my younger men. They were bored and drank a little too much. They have been disciplined.” He stepped away and walked over to the other chair but didn’t sit down. Aziraphale blinked and dragged himself off the mattress. They didn’t seem drunk.  But maybe he had that wrong. It was hard to know, hard to remember. The room wasn’t very cold but it wasn’t warm and his joints were starting to cease up because he couldn’t move around much. The bandage made the pain in his ribs bearable but they still hurt and he knew he had bruises on his face and torso. He could feel them. He blinked to clear his vision and didn’t understand why he was swaying slightly. Without warning, he heaved and spat up what he thought was water and bile but nothing more. He fell to his knees, shaking.

“Oh dear,” said Lucas. “Let me help.” He moved over to Aziraphale and lifted him gently back to his feet. “You don’t seem terribly well, Aziraphale,” he said gently. “You need to tell me what you know and we can get you more comfortable accommodation.” Aziraphale’s thoughts fluttered past without sticking and he couldn’t quite focus on Lucas but he nodded and rasped out a soft “Yes.”

“What… what day is it?”

“Does that matter? You are here with me for as long as I decide, so the day should not matter to you at all.”

Aziraphale felt a wave of hopelessness crash over him. He was entirely at Lucas’ mercy.

“I hope that you can see that I am trying to be reasonable with you,” said Lucas helping him to sit in the chair.

Aziraphale nodded.

“Words, Detective. We’ve discussed this already.”

“I’m… sorry. I… I’m dizzy. Sorry. Yes, I can see that.”

“Is that what you expected from Crowley’s descriptions of me?”

“No.”

“Why do you think he lied to you about me? I’m a criminal, certainly, and I have killed people who have crossed me but I am not unreasonable. I don’t just hurt people for fun.”

Aziraphale swayed on the chair. Yes, that seems right. That’s what he’s done so far. But… Another voice drifted to the front of his mind, but he said it’s not what he usually does and why would Crowley lie?

“I don’t know. I suppose he wanted me to like him. Wanted me to sleep with him or tell him what I knew.”

“Did you?”

“You know I did.”

“No. Did you tell him what you know, what you have figured out or suspect about Gabriel.”

“Yes. Gave him everything.”

“Oh dear. So you do trust him or you did at any rate. Do you think that was wise? When he even lies about his lover, his partner of years?”

Aziraphale swayed more and couldn’t focus on what Lucas was saying. “I… he… I wanted to believe him.”

“Was that all? Why did you trust him?”

“I… thought he…” No! Stop there! “I don’t know. There wasn’t anyone else and Gabriel was threatening me. And this… this is so much bigger than Sanctuary.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I saw… boxes… and the…” Stop talking! Do not tell him. Do not tell him what you suspect about the FBI and what you think might be in the boxes. Idiot! Shut up!

“What boxes?”

“Here somewhere. In another basement. Saw them. Laptops. Lots of them. Can’t be for anything good.”

“They could be for schools. There are so many deprived children in Sanctuary.”

Aziraphale swayed and glared at him. “They’re not though, are they?”

Lucas smiled. “I ask the questions. Let’s move on. You’re clearly not ready to talk about this and I’d rather not have you lie to me. That would be very unfortunate for you. We will come back to this. You said before that you are usually honest. When were you not?”

“Crowley. Didn’t write him a citation but I slept with him.”

Lucas’ eyes widened in shock and Aziraphale swayed violently and finally slipped of the chair, landing awkwardly on his knees. He held onto the chair to stay kneeling as the room got darker around him.

“You fucked him in exchange for not fining him? You! Seriously? That’s how you met! I knew you’d gone to his hotel but not exactly how you first met. Does Gabriel know about this?”

“Don’t think so. He’d have used it against me if he knew. Or he thinks he can use it later, I suppose.” Aziraphale slipped to the floor more fully. “It’s cold here,” he said softly as his eyes closed.

He was vaguely aware of Lucas picking him up and moving him back towards the mattress. He heard voices and then a blanket was draped over him.

“We will continue this later,” Lucas said.

***

“Is he talking, boss?”

“Yes, a little. But we’ve overdosed him. He’s barely able to string a sentence together and he can’t stand up. Don’t give him anymore. Replace the water bottle. We should have stuck standard methods. I shouldn’t have let myself be talked into this. The Prof does not have the dose right for people who are sensitive to it. Idiot. He’ll need at least a day before he is coherent again. Don’t let him sleep much.”

***

“Hello again, Aziraphale,” Lucas said sweetly. “Please take your seat.”

Aziraphale rolled onto his hands and knees and desperately tried to stand. He got as far as one foot and then slipped to the side. He blinked in confusion and tried to right himself.

“I believe you can do this yourself, Aziraphale but if you would prefer help, all you need to do is ask.”

Aziraphale turned his head to look at Lucas and saw him sitting in his chair, swaying slightly. He could get there on his own, surely? He tried to stand again and managed to drag himself to his feet. He took a hesitant step and his foot went from underneath him. He crashed to his left knee and gasped at the pain in both his knee and ribs. He tried again. Lucas regarded him calmly and did not comment on his halting progress.  After two more falls, Aziraphale finally made it to the chair and hauled himself into it, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

“Well done. I’m very pleased and impressed with you. Most others would have begged for help but you have done it yourself. You’re so much more resilient than your idiot ex-husband understands.”

Lucas sat back a little and swung in his chair absent-mindedly. “The beard is coming in nicely. I was right. It suits you. Why do you not usually wear one?”

Aziraphale squinted at him. Lucas wasn’t quite in focus. “I… it’s itchy. Gabriel didn’t like it when I tried before. Sort of forgot about it then for years.”

“Typical. Gabriel really is a fool. He’s barely able to control Sanctuary and he does it in such a heavy-handed fashion. No elegance. Did you report him to the FBI?”

Aziraphale nodded. “After the prosecutor I was working with died in the car crash I went to the FBI but they said I didn’t have enough.”

“Really? At that point, what did you have?”

“Oh some things. Photographs and a video of Gabriel and others beating the shit out of a witness at the Waterfront, a criminal informant willing to explain some of what he was doing, emails and some bank records.”

Lucas frowned. “And the FBI wouldn’t even interview him? When was this?”

“No. She said I didn’t have anything real. When I got home, it was all gone anyway. Stolen and my home ransacked. And they sent internal affairs after me for trying to bribe the mayor.”

Lucas shook his head looking irritated. “Heavy handed and foolish. Not how I would have dealt with you at all. But think about the FBI again. Where did you meet them? Who was the agent that you spoke to?”

Aziraphale rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. “I em… she said to go to New York so I did. Met in an office there. Waste of time. I don’t remember her name. I didn’t trust her. I heard something else… a word… I don’t think she was honest with me.”

“What word?”

“I don’t remember.” Aziraphale’s head was thumping and he felt dizzy. Lucas was fading in and out of focus, making him feel ill.

”Humm… I think, Aziraphale that whomever that agent was distracted you so that your home could be searched. You were right not to trust her. So few people are worthy of trust. Is there anything important that you have not told me that you think I would like to know?”

Aziraphale looked around in panic, trying to find the right answer. “I… I don’t know! I… can’t think clearly. I’m very tired. I don’t remember.”

“Ok,” said Lucas calmly, “I know direct questions are easier. We will continue in that manner. You have done well so far.”

Aziraphale relaxed.

“You said that you told Crowley everything you knew about Gabriel. Apart from what you just said, what was it that you knew?”

Aziraphale scrunched his face and tried to think. “I gave him a memory key with everything on it. But most of it was what I remembered or what I suspected because after I went to the FBI all my originals were stolen. I can’t remember now. He’ll still have it probably.”

“Good. Was there anything that stood out as particularly odd? Particularly suspicious?”

Aziraphale tried desperately to think but Lucas was now almost entirely out of focus and his thoughts were fleeting and erratic. A word swam past and he grabbed at it. “Oversight,” he said.

Lucas sat up in his chair abruptly. Aziraphale flinched backwards.

“What? Repeat that.”

“O… Oversight.”

“What do you know about that? What is it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. She said she had oversight of some other project but I don’t know why she needed to say that. It sounded like a thing, not a role. I don’t know. I don’t think she was… she’s not really on the level, you know? I wasn’t meant to hear.”

Lucas sat back in the chair again, “No, you most certainly were not. Well done Aziraphale. I’m very pleased with you. Genuinely impressed and that is very rare. You have no idea of what you nearly stumbled into and how well protected Gabriel has been. Now tell me, why did you trust Crowley enough to give him all of your suspicions?”

Aziraphale swayed on the chair and little bright flecks danced in front of his eyes as Lucas faded into the background. Lucas’ voice was the only real thing, the only thing he could focus on.  Why had he trusted Crowley? He’d lied about everything – even Lucas. Lucas was reasonable. “I… I…” but he wouldn’t say. He couldn’t tell Lucas. Even if he was wrong, his suspicion was too dangerous to say. “I didn’t have any other choice and he doesn’t like Gabriel. I thought he might just screw him over if he could. That would have been enough.”

Lucas frowned and rose from his chair. “I’m not sure I believe you, Aziraphale. You don’t strike me as particularly vengeful. We will continue for now.”

How does he know? How can he tell? Aziraphale was confused and terrified and he couldn’t keep his own thoughts in order.

Lucas moved behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. “What would it take, Aziraphale, for you to join me? I could protect you from Gabriel then and, maybe, if you are good, I might let you fuck Crowley every now and then.  You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Good. You wouldn’t have to do much. Just behave yourself. Stop causing trouble.”

Aziraphale’s stomach twisted. He would not be part of this. “I won’t help you.”

“Why not? When I am set up here, I’m going to spread out and take quite a lot more of the country. I’m going to have more power than the president. You could help – you could be our conscience. There is no need for people to suffer – well there is a minimum number but we could work together to keep that as low as possible – and when everything is in place, there is potential for things to be much better. Or much worse. You could help with that. Why don’t you want to help people?”

He did want to help people, to protect them. His eyes flicked shut but Lucas’ voice continued softly.

“Do you really want people like Gabriel – self-centred and stupid – or Crowley – a very clever liar who can never be trusted – to be the only ones whispering in my ear? Don’t you want to help?”

“You’d never do that to him.” His opened his eyes but struggled to keep them that way.

Lucas sighed and squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulders gently. “You are going to fixate on that bit. Super. No, I would offer it to him. I will be travelling a lot and I’m taking him back now. I have had enough of being separated but he will need company when I’m gone. You’re not entirely objectionable. I could tolerate you keeping him warm when I’m absent. Why do you trust him?”

Aziraphale struggled to keep up with the constant changes of conversational direction but tried to answer. “I don’t. There was no one else. I won’t help you.” The room was spinning faster and he could see less and less. Waves of confusion crashed over him. He just wanted to sleep.

Lucas leaned down and spoke softly, squeezing Aziraphale’s shoulders. “I think, after an initial settling in period, you could be a fun addition to our domestic arrangement. I still want to know why he came back to you because from what I heard in the Potted Plant you’re fucking fantastic in bed. It took me a few weeks to make him howl like that.”

Aziraphale shuddered. “You were there?”

“Of course. I collected you the following morning once Anthony had left.”

Aziraphale shook his head, none of this made sense to him.  “I… I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I think that the three of us could have a marvellous time together. And of course if you’re fucking me you are most certainly not going to have to fuck Gabriel. Doesn’t that seem like a better arrangement?”

Aziraphale swayed, horrified and knowing an answer was required. “I… I don’t want that.”

“Are you in love with Crowley?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale’s eyes closed again and the room tilted away from him.

“Oh dear, Aziraphale. You lied to me before. We will have to come back to that.”

Lucas lowered his head to whisper into Aziraphale’s ear, his lips brushing against him and increased the pressure on his shoulders slightly, “What did you do that he liked so much? Did you move slowly, strongly inside him? He likes that – did you do that for him?”

“Yes.” He remembered. The feel of moving with Crowley. Gasping together and holding him as he came down.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

“He… he liked when I pulled his hair a little.” Soft, beautiful hair sliding between his fingers.

“Oh yes, he loves that but you have to get it just right. Did you kiss slowly along his collar bone and up his neck? He loves that. He makes the most wonderful noise at that. Almost a purr. Did you do that?”

“Yes. His neck is so long, so beautiful; easy to kiss.” Skin so smooth it was hard to believe it was real.

“It is, I agree. You look strong. Did you press him into the bed and hold him down while you kissed him?”

“Yes.” Again, and again, and again.

“Mmmm… I like that too, just in case it becomes relevant. Why did you trust him?”

The world faded away from Aziraphale. He couldn’t think or really understand the question. He needed to answer. That was important somehow. The voice of the speaker was all that mattered. Spots like stars were dancing in front of his eyes. He couldn’t see anything else.

“I think… I think he’s FBI but...”

Hands moved gently down his arms and encircled him in warmth. The voice whispered in his ear from very far away. “But… It’s important that you tell me. What else do you think?”

“Don’t tell Lucas…”

“I won’t. If you tell me I can protect him. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Angel, please tell me,” the voice begged softly.

“Crowley? Are you here?” Had he come to help? That was nice.

“Yes darling. Tell me.”

“You’re… British… the things here, they’re too big. Dangerous machines. International. Upset everyone. FBI doesn't make sense.”

“Tell me.”

“British secret service.”

Lucas pulled back and took a deep breath and then bent down and kissed him softly on the top of the head. “Finally. Thank you, Aziraphale. I’m sorry about this part, but I told you not to lie to me.”

Aziraphale didn’t feel the blow that knocked him from the chair. All he knew was that his head hurt and he couldn’t get up. He tasted blood in his mouth but couldn’t coordinate himself enough to spit it out. He lay on the cold floor, confused and unable to think, seeing nothing but stars.

***

Sometime later, Lucas’ man came in and righted him. He was barely conscious. “Let’s get you over to the mattress. It’s time to sleep.” He was carried to the mattress and placed on it sitting up. “Rinse your mouth and spit into this basin.” Aziraphale complied. He was pushed down and the blanket was put over him. “It could have been worse, blondy. Don’t forget that.” The man stood up and left. Finally, the light bulb blinked off and Aziraphale was bathed in comforting darkness. He fell asleep.

***

“Did you get what you needed, Boss?”

“Yes. Bring Anthony tonight.”

“Awake or asleep?”

“Asleep but unhurt. There is medical grade anaesthetic in the supply room. Don’t be seen acquiring him and don’t over-do it. I don’t need him asleep for a fucking week. Have the larger basement set up too. Fell knows far too much, even if he doesn’t understand what he knows, and Anthony likely knows more.”

“If you want him asleep and unhurt, I’ll need to take a few of the boys.”

“Fine.”

“Do you want Gabriel?”

“Not yet.”

Chapter Text

Week 3: Thursday (Day 3 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Crowley had spent Tuesday fuming and storming around the office shouting at anyone who came within reach. He had done very little work and had left early. He worked from the hotel on Wednesday, though calling it work was a considerable exaggeration. He got rip-roaringly drunk on Tuesday night in his suite, slid off the sofa at some point and slept on the floor. When he did wake, he was mildly horrified to see a previously unopened bottle of very expensive Scotch lying empty beside him.   His head pounded and he thought he might be sick but instead, he dragged himself back onto the sofa and fell asleep again. He had never done this sort of thing while working ever before.

On Thursday morning, with his head no longer thumping and his stomach settled but his mind still racing, he decided he needed to take hold of the situation. He was furious with himself for getting attached to Aziraphale – the fucking bastard had played him for a fool. And as for Lucas – that prick was in Sanctuary and still hadn’t made contact. He had fucking promised and he was ignoring Crowley. Bastard. And no response from Michael two days after sending that text clearly highlighting a problem. They could all got to Hell. He was about to shake things up and none of them would like what was coming next.

***

Friday (Day 4 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

On Friday afternoon, Crowley sat in a nice coffee shop in one of the posher suburbs of Sanctuary reading a paper and sipping a fancy coffee. It was large enough that he could sit in the back and see the rest of the shop without being too near other people. The soft pop music in the background was vaguely irritating but that had more to do with his mood than the music. He glanced over the paper every time the door tinkled open and every time returned grumpily to the news he wasn’t particularly interested in.

He turned a page casually and was drawn to an article detailing a private plane crash in the European Alps. He was about to pass over it when he noticed reference to the victims. Apparently two Nobel Laureates and another scientist who was hotly tipped to be honoured next year were among the dead. They were all chemists.

Crowley was suddenly reading with rapt attention. He recognised two of the names as people Lucas’ father had railed against on many occasions. He couldn’t stand Enoch King. He was the very worst sort of pseudo-liberal academic. Absolutely loaded and presenting one face to the world and an entirely different one in private. He had treated his wife appallingly, which started the problems between him and Lucas that only ever seemed to increase with time, and was almost worse to his son. Enoch hated that his son refused to marry and provide an heir to the family fortune. He saw no particular problem with Lucas having male partners as long as he also had a suitable wife. Lucas had strongly disagreed and Enoch had loathed Crowley as a result. He was also, infuriatingly, a superb chemist – a professor in one of the best departments in the country – who spent, in Crowley’s opinion, far too much time in the media for a scientist. He was quoted as being devastated by the shocking loss of his colleagues, which made Crowley snort. He’d be fucking delighted. He was also quoted as having become irate when asked if the death of the British scientist in particular raised his own chances of a Nobel. It makes it a certainty, thought Crowley. Well that prick will be kept happy for a while.  He shook his head. His mother had at least had the decency to kick him out completely but Enoch always pulled Lucas back in just to be a shit to him again.

Just as he was about to turn the page, he read the last paragraph, which included a statement from an FBI agent on the ground stating that the crash was explained by a fault in the plane. Apparently an engineer had been arrested for negligence. “What the fuck is an FBI agent doing there talking to the press?” Crowley glared at the paper, trying to understand. Something that benefited Enoch greatly and somehow involved an FBI agent was too odd to fully ignore.

The screech of a chair pulled across the tiled floor and a surreptitious cough interrupted his thoughts and drew his attention from the paper but he didn’t lower it. For fuck’s sake, he thought, Furfur might as well wear a sign “FBI – Don’t Tell Anyone!”

“Furfur,” Crowley said softly not looking up from the paper. “You’re late. And loud. Don’t make a fucking scene.”

“Sorry Crowley,” he said as he sat down. “What’s up? I was hoping this might be a social call but it doesn’t appear to be.”

Crowley repressed a shudder. There wasn’t anything actually wrong with Furfur but he gave him the creeps, and the constant hints that he’d like some private time together made him slightly queasy. But he had been making use of it for years. Furfur liked to feel valuable and Crowley was happy to provide that for him.

“I need you to do something for me. And I need it done very soon – without fuss or arguing.” He softened his tone and looked over the top of the paper, smiling slightly. “You know you’re the only one who I trust to help, don’t you?”

The other man nodded somewhat unhappily.

“You know I rely on you?”

Another nod. “You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?”

Crowley widened his smile in a way he knew the other man found unbearably attractive. “Of course not. When have I ever? But look, after this… maybe I’ll have some spare time, you know? Before I’m sent off wherever is next.” He knew this wasn’t nice, but then again, neither was he.

Furfur broke immediately. Crowley wondered how he did his job when he was this bloody easy to manipulate.

“What do you need?”

“Nothing much, nothing difficult. Two things. Some information and then a little favour.” Furfur nodded, sipping an over-milked white coffee. “Firstly, do you know where we think Lucas Morningstar is at the moment?” This was always one of his questions so he expected Furfur to know.

“Yeah, I checked before I left. He’s still in Mexico Crowley. He’s in the same villa in Riviera Maya as the last time you asked. He’s been tracked there electronically two days ago and physically a week ago. He’s not coming back here. One of his men was seen in Florida last week though so I guess he is doing business there now but Morningstar is not in the US. You don’t need to worry.” Crowley nodded. He remained sore about the fact that Lucas was living in one of the most luxurious parts of a beautiful country with good weather and the sea literally on his doorstep while he’d been sent to Chicago to freeze. However, it was at least mildly amusing that Lucas had the FBI running around like fools. It was impressive. He was impressive. Crowley shook himself internally and refocused.

“Good. Ok, so the favour. I need a raid on the mayor’s office here. Two weeks from today. It has to be that Friday. They need to go in with warrants to search everything in the building – computers, filing cabinets, phones, cars, people’s fucking pockets – everything. I will leave a trail of breadcrumbs even the FBI should be able to follow and I expect them to end the day with Gabriel Archer in handcuffs. Can you do that?”

“Fuck, Crowley – not without evidence! That’s not a “little” favour!”

Crowley smiled again and slid a large, thick envelop resting at his foot over to Furfur. “There is more than enough in here. Don’t look here!” He’s such a fucking moron.

Furfur stopped opening the envelope and put it inside his jacket. “Sorry. Ok, if there is enough then I’ll have the raid for you. I assume you want it late morning – 10 am?”

“Perfect,” purred Crowley as he folded his newspaper, tucked a tip under his coffee cup and left. This was going to piss everyone off. He was done being fucked around.

***

Crowley got back to the Apex as evening was closing in and decided that he would have dinner in the bar. He needed to return to his regular work but he was still thinking about everything that had happened this week. He still couldn’t believe that everything with Aziraphale has been a lie. It had felt so real. He just didn’t seem the type at all. But, Crowley now knew, that was all part of it. Part of why it had worked so bloody well. He felt like such a fool and setting Gabriel up, while amusing and well-deserved, wasn’t going to change the fact that he was heartbroken.

He sat beside one of the roaring fires and ordered a drink and dinner as he gazed into the dancing flames. For the first time in a very long time, he wished it was easier to contact the Witch. They hadn’t really considered what to do if he had an emergency. He supposed he wasn’t meant to have them. Then again, being heartbroken and wanting her to tell him he was a fool and to get over it wasn’t an emergency. She was just good at it. He wondered if ten years and an ocean of distance meant they weren’t really friends anymore. It probably did. She ensured he was paid to do a job. That was all. And he was proving entirely incapable of doing that job. Nearly ten years and he had almost nothing. He sighed and sipped the glass of red wine that had been placed in front of him several minutes ago but could do nothing to shake his maudlin thoughts.

As he cycled through everything that had disappointed him lately, he eventually moved on from his top two: himself and Aziraphale and thought about Michael instead. He still had the second phone in his pocket, which probably wasn’t a good idea, but since Gabriel had found it he wasn’t happy leaving it in the hotel. He took it out and looked at it furiously. Michael was supposed to respond to texts that indicated there was a problem but he still had nothing. He opened the messaging app and texted “M, you might like to know that I’m still alive. You’re supposed to respond to emergencies.”

A text came back almost immediately, which was more annoying than not getting a response at all. “Stop being dramatic. You indicated a minor problem, not an emergency. I’m in Europe. I’ll be back in a few days and we can talk then. I expect progress.”

He glared at the phone and shoved it back in his pocket. Bitch. His food arrived and he ate while his sulky thoughts continued to assail him. There seemed to be nothing he could do other than swim in his misery. Thoughts about how little Gabriel deserved Aziraphale were quickly followed by how they absolutely deserved each other, followed by Lucas not wanting him anymore and being ignored by his so-called handler who wanted Lucas off the board but did nothing to help; around and around they went.

What would he do when he crossed paths with Lucas as seemed inevitable? Maybe Lucas would just kill him having decided he didn’t need or want him anymore. Part of him felt that might just be in everyone’s best interests. He couldn’t screw things up any more if he was dead. And it would certainly be easier than having to continue on with all of this. But what if Lucas did still want him? He didn’t want to go back, right? He didn’t. But what if he did? Aziraphale clearly didn’t care for him at all. Lucas was the only person who had ever actually wanted him and in the end, even he had left. But what if he did want Crowley back? Could he convince Lucas to leave? Go somewhere else – let all these idiots fight amongst themselves? Would Lucas even consider the possibility?

But he couldn’t. If he did Michael would send the FBI after him instead as promised. Though he had wondered about that more recently. He had panicked slightly when she first threatened him, worried that she had somehow figured out who he was. But she clearly hadn’t. If she had, he would be dead already. No one knew who he was. Almost no one. Only a bare handful of people in MI6 knew that he worked for them. And she wanted Lucas desperately. That was why she refused to let him leave. He wanted Oversight, which she was the key to and she wanted Lucas. So he had to stay until he delivered. She didn’t have anything on him. Her threats were too vague.  She threatened to take his green card or reveal that the joint-citizenship she had forged so he could be hired by the FBI was fake or to get him on some malpractice accusation that he knew he hadn’t committed. That didn’t mean she couldn’t set him up of course but he was convinced that she had nothing real. There was very little to get on him. Only who he was and where he had hidden someone long ago. And she didn’t have either. He still couldn’t leave without Oversight. Not now. He was much more concerned about the Witch coming after him if he left with Lucas before he got Oversight for her. He sighed.

Michael was a problem that needed to be dealt with and if she wasn’t even going to do what her alleged job was and help with Lucas then he really didn’t need to try to keep her onside. Oversight was what he needed and she wasn’t enough to satisfy the Witch. She’s in Europe for the next few days! He’d been too annoyed for the penny to drop. He looked at his watch and smiled. It was 7.30 pm now. And Michael had a private office in a quiet wing of the small FBI building she worked in. It was empty. He had ID. He smiled. Finally. If I can get the Witch what she wants then maybe I can convince Lucas…

Twenty minutes later, after a quick stop at the Sanctuary bus terminal where Crowley held two separate lockers under two entirely fake names – one that contained only a key with no number or other identifying marks to indicate which locker it opened and the other that held a change of clothes and a small box with a complicated physical puzzle lock – he had retrieved his FBI identification, looked longingly at his real passport which he didn’t even need given he had several others scattered around Chicago and the East Coast, and was on his way to New York well above the speed limit.

***

Week 3: Saturday (Day 5 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

At 2 am Crowley skulked into the small building on the outskirts of New York. The guy on the door nodded to him but, since his ID had beeped happily, didn’t do anything else. Crowley never carried a gun so he didn’t beep under the metal detector and the bored and tired guard waved him in without really looking. They didn’t even ask him to remove his baseball cap and the leather jacket and baggy jeans were enough of a disguise on their own for him not to be immediately recognised on any recordings. What they didn’t know was that one of the Witches’ people had sent him a little chip to slide under the ID – it meant that it flashed up showing who he was and his official credentials but would never be stored in the system. A tiny, unremarkable glitch, that once it wasn’t used too much, would raise no concerns and was very useful indeed. He had only used it once to make sure it worked and never again on his rare visits to the office. This was a huge risk but it was the first time in nearly three years where it might actually work.

He walked quickly and projected as much confidence as he could towards the more junior agents’ offices. Once he was sure that there was no one watching, he logged on to a hot desking computer using stolen credentials from poor Furfur and got into the camera system in the building. He could see himself typing away at his workstation and flicked through the rest. He found the route to Michael’s office and saw nothing but empty corridors and dark rooms. He was alone. He put the little code into the programme running the cameras and watched them being a loop that would show only empty and dark corridors for the next hour. It would then delete itself and return control of the cameras back to the system like it had never happened. Newt would be proud of him, he thought grimly. The tech nerd had spent a painful weekend showing him how to do this and several other things a long time ago. It was just as well the FBI hadn’t updated their systems.  Smirking, he got up and walked to Michael’s office, swiping himself in without difficulty. Security here was upsettingly poor. No one would ever have gotten into Eden this easily.

Crowley glanced around again and sighed. They should all be ashamed of themselves that it was this easy to wander into a senior person’s office, but it was to his advantage. The computer blinked to life at a light touch of the mouse and awaited a sign-in. He frowned. This was the bit he wasn’t sure about. He could log in as himself or someone else but that wouldn’t get him in at Michael’s files. He hoped the Witch was right and that the little chip he had carried for three years would actually work.

He unbuckled his watch and flipped it over. The Witch’s instructions from years ago promised that this would circumvent the need for a login. He hoped she was right. He took his pen knife out of his pocket and flicked it open. He slotted it under the little rectangular chip and popped it out. It landed softly on the desk. For a moment, his eyes lingered on the inscription. He couldn’t help it. He ran his fingers over it and was transported back in time, a little over six months before Lucas abandoned him.

Three and a half years ago – Bar Eden New York

Crowley followed Lucas out to Eden’s large balcony and looked around in delighted bemusement. The entire balcony was reserved for just the two of them and covered in beautiful plants of all sorts in large and small pots. He gazed around in amazement. Deep green large-leaved tropical-looking plants provided a background for beautifully coloured tree lilies with yellow and pink blossoms pouring a relaxing scent into the night air. Dark blue clematis flowers spread out behind them, clinging to the trellis that could barely be seen behind the plants and delicate white blossoms of jasmine were scattered throughout the larger flowers and providing a soft perfume that contrasted the stronger scent of the tree lilies. He recognised English roses, pink carnations and pink and red Camellias interspersed with the rest and several other species that he couldn’t name. It was a riot of colour and smells. Candles on stands of differing heights were scattered around the space creating a soft and romantic light. The balcony had been transformed into a garden, like the bar’s namesake. It was utterly beautiful. As he looked around in awe he heard soft notes from a group of musicians that were nearby but obscured by the plants. Lucas beamed at him and took his hand. “Do you like it, Darling?”

“It’s incredible, Lucas but why?”

“Why not?” He led him to a white wrought iron table set for two. They sat down and a waiter brought a crisp white wine and described the menu for the evening. Crowley felt over-whelmed. Everything was perfect. They ate, drank and laughed the evening away. The noises of the bar and the city far below were impossible to hear and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

After a desert wine and the final course, Lucas grew serious, He placed his elbows on the table, lent towards Crowley, balancing his chin on his fist and looked at him intensely. Crowley smiled and looked back, wondering what he had to say. “This was a lovely evening, Lucas. Thank you.”

Lucas nodded, still serious. “I love you, Anthony. Do you fully understand that? Beyond the fun, money and power. I love you.”

Crowley looked at him slightly confused. “I love you too, Lucas. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I’d do anything for you.”

The other man’s lips twitched very slightly and he reached into his pocket. “I have something for you but it comes with an explanation and, unfortunately, no clear timeline. It is a promise that no matter how bad things get, I have a plan that includes you.”

“What do you mean? I thought we had things under control. What are you not telling me?”

Lucas waved his other hand dismissively. “Not tonight Darling. And nothing much. Some family issues that I hope will be resolved soon but you know how things can be with my family. There are some things, and this is one of them, that I cannot do until I have my father fully off my back. But I will.”

Crowley relaxed. Family problems were something Lucas handled on his own and Crowley was grateful for it. The less time he spent in Lucas’ father’s company the better. Lucas took a rectangular black velvet box out of his jacket and slide it across the table to Crowley. He looked at it confused but when he picked it up he smiled slightly. The brand was his favourite for elegant pieces to add to an outfit. He opened the box and a small sigh escaped his lips. “Oh this is beautiful Lucas. My love, what is this in aid of?” A stunning black watch with a large triangular face and red edging was sitting in the box. The numbers and hands were outlined in silver that gleamed when they caught the soft light of the balcony. It was beautiful. Perfect. He ran his thumb over the face and looked up at Lucas in mild bewilderment.

Lucas smiled softly back at him. “I cannot do what I want now. But I will, as I said, when I have this little family matter sorted. Take it out and look at the inscription.”

Crowley gently removed the watch from the box and turned it over. He nearly dropped it in shock. He looked up at Lucas with wide eyes. “Really?”

“The moment that it is safe to do so. Anyway and anywhere you wish, Darling.”

“I didn’t think… I never thought that you wanted this.”

“Neither did I. But, if you would like to?”

Crowley carefully put the watch back in its box and placed it on the table. He stood up and moved around the table and took Lucas’ face in his hands. “Yes. Yes. As soon as you think it is safe. I will marry you, my love.” His thoughts briefly touched on Lucas’ father. That must be the problem and he had been quite clear about his feelings on Crowley. But he didn’t doubt that Lucas would keep him safe if needed. He bent down and kissed Lucas, who pushed the chair back slightly and pulled him into his lap, kissing him back vigorously.

Back in the present

Crowley groaned quietly at the memory and put the watch face up on Michael’s desk, pushing a small white notepad slightly out of his way. He had 50 minutes left and needed to focus. He’d so much rather be in Eden than Sanctuary. He had never found out what had happened to make Lucas run but he was sure it had something to do with his bastard father. He mentally shook himself, picked the thin chip up and slotted it into one of the UBS ports on Michael’s computer as he had been instructed to do several years ago. For a few seconds nothing happened other than a small blinking yellow light on the device. Then it turned white and the screen flickered. He looked on in concern. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to provide an uplink to his people or if it would just turn on the computer. Thankfully, the screen flickered a few more times and then presented a desktop. He sat down and started looking at what was on the computer. He saw an upload bar and realised that it was all being copied and likely sent to his people. Fine. That would keep them happy for a while and alert them that things were finally happening. But as he looked through the contents of the computer it was clear that none of it was what either of them wanted.

He sat back and grimaced. This was all standard FBI work. Nothing about Oversight at all. Michael wasn’t as stupid as he’d hoped. The little upload bar was still going, so he needed to stay until that was done. He may as well give his people what he could. He clicked onto the internet icon and went through her history but saw nothing relevant there. Shit. This was a waste of time.  He rocked himself gently in the swivel chair and rested his head on its back. What to do? There was no way Michael kept everything for Oversight in her head, everyone kept notes somewhere. Maybe it was all on a laptop or even a notebook, knowing how much she hated clutter the latter was unlikely. As he swayed gently, his attention was caught by a ceramic pot with a very dead house plant. Poor thing. He got up and moved towards it. “Couldn’t even give you water once a week, eh? Typical.” He turned the pot gently to inspect the plant and frowned. Michael’s office was so tidy it was practically sterile and this plant was dead, probably for months and maybe longer. He picked it up and pulled gently. The plant came out of its pot effortlessly and dry as a bone. And underneath it was a USB in a plastic zip-lock bag. He grinned.

Crowley moved back to the computer quickly and took the little uplink device out of the USB slot. It had sent everything it was going to send and he didn’t know if Michael’s USB would scan the computer before opening. He shoved it in and looked at his watch on the desk. He had been here 40 minutes. He needed to be fast. The USB did scan the computer and then requested a password. He cast around wondering. He had no clue. Shit. He sighed and took it out of the computer and put it in his pocket. He would have to deal with it later and hopefully before Michael noticed that it was missing. He pulled the empty USB that he had planned to use to copy files on Michael’s computer out of his pocket but instead put it in the little bag, carefully closed it and replaced it under the plant. At a casual glance they were conveniently similar – both small and black – but she would know the difference immediately if she took it out of the bag. He picked up a dried leaf that had fallen off and put it in his pocket. Glancing around, he retrieved his watch and put the little uplink device in a pocket. He had ten minutes left to leave before the camera loop ended. He made sure to put the chair back as he had found it and wiped down the keyboard with a wet-wipe from his pocket. As he got to the door, he remembered the notepad and went back to push it back into place. He saw the impression of whatever had been written on the page above and, on a whim, tore it off and put it in his pocket then returned the pad to its starting location. He left the office and walked quickly down the corridor. He glanced at his watch as he entered the lobby and saw that he had made it with barely two minutes to spare. Nodding at the security guard and keeping his face away from the cameras, he smiled as he left the building.

A few hours later he stood in his suite in the Apex looking out the window with a whiskey in one hand and Michael’s USB in the other wondering if the whole adventure had been worth the risk. She would notice that the key was missing and she would eventually figure out that he knew she wasn’t there for a few days. Time was starting to become increasingly short. He needed to see what was on it but without the password it was probably programmed to delete everything. That was what he would do if it were his. He put it in the safe. Another “working from home” day beckoned but as there was no court date tomorrow, likely no one would notice or care. He finished the whiskey, slightly concerned that he was drinking more than he should while working, and went to bed.

***

Michael sat in Geneva airport glaring at her phone. She couldn’t get the remote link to connect on her desktop in New York and had no idea why. It didn’t matter much, she had only wanted to check something in one of her files and it could wait but it usually worked fine. She shook the phone again but, naturally that achieved nothing. She was tired and frustrated. The trip to Switzerland had been fraught and their agent had only just managed to not be caught. They were lucky the engineer was an obvious target to take the blame for the fault in the plane but it shouldn’t have been necessary.    She had sent him back to LA with his tail very firmly between his legs. He could explain what had gone wrong to Archangel himself. Though since it had worked anyway, he probably wouldn’t care. Or the agent would have a car crash or overdose. It was always hard to predict. She was out of the firing line and that was all that mattered today.

It finally occurred to her to check the camera secreted on a bookshelf in her office but all it revealed was a dark room. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow move near the door, but it was probably just the light caused by someone walking down the corridor.  The computer monitor was lit looking for the password but nothing more. She sighed and gave up. It could wait until she was back in the office tomorrow. She’d have to deal with Crowley too. He was whining too much and she worried that he was having second thoughts. He was the best chance she had of getting Lucas Morningstar off the board and his only apparent weakness.  She had no idea what Lucas saw in him. He was so irritating. But she needed him for now. She still had found nothing on him to really use against him other than the threat to remove his green card or freeze his passport. Neither would matter much to someone like Crowley if he moved fast enough but his unguarded reaction to her hints that she knew something meant there was something to find. For now though, he would help her get rid of Lucas and she’d decide what to do with him later.  If he got cold feet about betraying Lucas, she would kill him herself.

***

Week 3: Sunday (Day 6 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Crowley worked steadily all of Sunday. He had a court date on Monday and needed to catch up after his disastrous week. By Sunday evening, Crowley had finally started to fully calm down from the events of the previous week and he was a little perturbed at the risks he had taken. Dragging Furfur into this wasn’t entirely fair but it was useful and he really shouldn’t have gone to Michael’s office. Given that he still hadn’t heard from her properly, he guessed that she hadn’t noticed the missing USB straight away. Or if she had, didn’t suspect him as the thief. Or she was still in Europe. He wondered briefly if he should tell her about the raid he had set in motion but she’d know soon enough. She might say no if he told her and he needed to kick Lucas’ anthill since he was refusing to come out and play on his own.

He smiled grimly at the trouble the raid would cause and wondered how Aziraphale would enjoy visiting Gabriel in jail. Maybe it would be a new kink for them. It would only last a few days but he was determined that the mayor would spend some time inspecting his own underfunded facilities. He had arranged the raid for that specific Friday because it greatly increased the chances of getting a hostile judge given the current rotation. Gabriel probably would not be granted bail until Crowley raised an objection. And since Crowley intended to finish up and trigger one of the escape clauses in his contract that Thursday any intervention on Friday would prove extremely expensive for Gabriel – if Crowley agreed to go at all. And that would depend entirely on Lucas. If he turned up and wanted Crowley to stay, he would but if not, Gabriel would be on his own. He would however make the bastard beg him to help. He would not be treated like a fool. Gabriel would pay for what he had done. He smiled. He still had some work to do but he wanted to leave a few dangling threads for the feds to pull when they turned up in two weeks, so he was taking his time with it. He was also leaving a nice but obscure set of financial irregularities for the forensic accounts to find that would make it look like Gabriel had funded the entire Waterfront buyout rather than Lucas.

It was nice to see that Lucas still needed him because if he had set up the fronts, shell corporations and fake companies, no one would have been able to link any of it Lucas. But he had found the trail that clearly linked the Waterfront to Megiddo and Megiddo to Lucas. Once he found them, he had carefully erased them.  There was nothing left that would implicate Lucas in any of it unless Crowley provided the detailed trail that he had made to hide the evidence. Only he could prove that it was Lucas now. He could protect him or destroy him. Even more entertainingly, he had hidden quite a few of the companies in a new one that Lucas would struggle to find without him. He would figure out that it was Crowley but he would need to ask nicely to find his money now. Crowley had had more than enough of everyone taking him for granted and playing him. Lucas was no exception.

His mind bounced around erratically from Lucas to Aziraphale to Gabriel and on to Michael, wondering how much every one of them had lied to him. No one could be trusted. And he hadn’t heard a thing from his people in 18 months. He didn’t even know if they were alive or if Oversight had found out who was looking for them and killed them. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. If the Witch and Madam were gone, there was nothing for him to go back to.  He had to contact her. This surely counted as an exception? This was enough of an emergency? But what did he have to say? That he’d fucked up so badly he didn’t think he would get anything other than a bullet if he stayed? He wasn’t prepared to do that now after ten years. He could turn this around. Lucas would make himself known eventually and he would get more on Oversight. He had to. The thought of Lucas made his anger rise again. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t made contact. He was here at least two weeks and Crowley suspected longer. He was running the FBI ragged with fake phone and computer trails and, he assumed, someone who looked like him wandering around Mexico. But he hadn’t so much as dropped a hint of his presence here for Crowley to find – not on purpose. He was furious. And that was a problem. He needed to be able to finish this but he was still worried that he would take one look at Lucas and tell him everything. Fuck he was an absolute fool. He needed this finished and he needed, so badly, to go home. Too much depended on getting this right and he was so close to fucking it all up because he couldn’t think with his fucking brain. Aziraphale and Lucas were driving him demented. He needed to forget about them both. Aziraphale had never cared about him and Lucas had abandoned him for years. Neither of them cared.

But what if Lucas had an explanation? What if he did want him back? Lucas… Lucas would still want him. No one else did. Not even the people who he worked for, who told him all of this was vital for national security but gave him no way to ask for help. And if he delivered Oversight? What then? He’d either be sent away somewhere else to do it all again or retired out to obscurity with nothing other than another pay out to go away. Starting life again at 40. Alone. He ran his fingers though his hair, pulling it almost frantically and felt his breathing increase. His heart rate climbed with it and his vision started to blur.

Not now! Fuck! This was the second time this had almost happened since he came here. He hadn’t had a panic attack in nearly 20 years and he was not going to have one now! This damn place! He tried to focus on his breath but felt his control slipping. This time there was not gentle rubs on his back or soft whispers from Aziraphale to sooth him. That thought sent him over the edge. Tears started to leak from his eyes and suddenly he was weeping into his knees struggling to take even a shallow breath. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do any of it. He had misjudged everything and didn’t know what to do. He had thought things were going well when he was doing fuck all – when he was in fact being a fucking mob lawyer. Not pretending. It was what he was. He was a piece of shit and here, now, when things were starting to happen and he had already failed, was the proof. And despite all of this, what hurt most of all was knowing that Aziraphale was laughing at his stupidity. That he had never cared. He was right to laugh but that didn’t help Crowley at all.

He sobbed into his hands and struggled to breathe. His throat burned and he felt like a fool. Oh if they could see him now! Useless. Alone. And as his mother had predicted, an utter failure. A lost cause.

Mother… the thought of his mother sent a wave of anger through him that jolted his spiralling thoughts. His breathing slowed and he stopped crying. It was infuriating that his mother invading his thoughts was what helped to regain control. But perhaps she was good for something after all?  He took a deep breath and then another. He knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. He was tired and frustrated and afraid of what was coming. There was a good chance that he would not survive his time in Sanctuary but that was what he had signed up to when he agreed to this job. If he got the information, it wouldn’t matter whether or not he survived. The mission had always been more important. That was the whole fucking point. He reached to the table for the fancy box of tissues. He dried his eyes and cleared his nose and continued to breathe deeply and conscientiously. He needed to regain control. Yes, he had been less than cautious this week, but he had done things that made sense. Yes, he was entirely alone but that had been true for most of his life. Yes, he still didn’t have any real information but he had routes to it for the first time. He was close now and he knew it. He had always, despite the realities of life, been an optimist and now was not the time to change that. He was not going to let these second rate bastards in this shithole city beat him. And he would deal with Lucas when he emerged from whatever shadow he was lurking in.

With his breathing now fully controlled and his emotions in check, he got up and went to the drinks cabinet. It had, thankfully, been restocked since his ill-advised binge on Tuesday evening. There was a nice new Scotch in there. He hesitated for a moment but decided tonight was not the night to stop drinking. He sighed happily and pulled it out, pouring himself a decent measure. He didn’t want to get drunk but he needed to calm down properly so that he could think again. He stood looking out the window at the lights of the city below him, right where he had stood on his first night here with Aziraphale. The bastard. He sighed. He’d been set up by Gabriel right from the start. He was surprised that the mayor had it in him. This was one of the most pressing concerns relating to Lucas. He was going to fucking kill him when he found out – and he would because Gabriel would tell him. His only hope there was if Gabriel understood that Lucas would kill Aziraphale too but he wasn’t going to bet lives on Gabriel’s ability to understand anything. He needed a reason that Lucas might believe. He rested his head on the cool glass, trying to think. What would be an acceptable reason to break their agreement now? He smiled slightly. Lucas had an ego. He could use that if he needed it. And he could still do what he was here to do. Maybe. Assuming he could bear to face Lucas.

He pushed himself off the window and turned back into the large living room. He couldn’t fault the Apex as a place to stay for a few weeks. It was the only place in Sanctuary that he didn’t absolutely hate. It reminded him of the apartment he’d abandoned when he left London. He shook his head and tried, yet again, to focus. His eyes fell on the bag he had brought to the Potted Plant the previous Monday evening. He had shoved it under the sofa in a temper when he got home on Tuesday evening and hadn’t looked at it since.  Then, without warning, the memory of the USB key pounded through his mind. He looked at the bag in shock. He had completely forgotten about it. He’d been so angry at Aziraphale and so focused on trying to get something, anything, from Michael that might be enough to let him leave the US that he had completely forgotten about Aziraphale’s USB. He compressed his lips and wondered. Surely there was nothing on it? Or some shitty spyware or a virus. There couldn’t’ be anything real. Aziraphale was a prick who had set him up and made him look like a fool. If he lost his laptop to another trick, he might as well just walk down to the Waterfront shouting who he was working for until one of Lucas’s men shot him in the head. Or…

He glared at the bag like it had insulted him and considered. Finally, he decided that he had to know. Better to be sure exactly how much of a moron he was than to spend the rest of his life wondering. Crowley loosened and then removed his tie, took off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He brought the bottle of Scotch over to the sofa and popped it on the table beside the laptop, then opened the bag and fished out the USB. He sat on the sofa and looked at the USB suspiciously. His laptop had advanced antivirus that should find anything problematic but it could always miss something and he remained unsure. He took a large gulp of whiskey. Fuck it. Shrugging, he shoved the key into the slot and waited until the programme returned a clean bill of health. It did so in a few minutes. There was nothing problematic on it.

He hovered the mouse over the icon to open the contents and saw that the key was half full. There was a lot on it. Confused, he clicked on the file organiser and opened the contents. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, hyper-organised and Crowley couldn’t quite repress a smile. Every file had a clear name and there was a text document with a full list of what was on the key and why each of the other files contained on it were relevant. He rubbed his eyes and frowned. There was so much. This was a lot of effort to put into a joke. Topping up his whiskey, he opened a folder marked “photographs” and found two sub-folders:  one with the date that they had met at the Waterfront and one about a year before. The Waterfront folder revealed exactly what it should – photos very similar to the ones that he had sent to Michael, though there were more of them and they were better quality. Probably because Aziraphale had been taking photos not trying to avoid a panic attack on seeing Lucas. He opened the other folder and saw the problem immediately. While it was possible to recognise Gabriel it required wishful thinking and nothing was clear. The indistinguishable bulk that he knew was Gabriel stood over a heap on the ground that looked like someone who had been beaten. Other shadows stood around them both but all of the people in the photos were dark shapes without clear identifying detail. So nothing useful. Nothing that would stand up in court. There was a text file that described the contents of the two photograph folders in some detail and the photographs that were no longer available with reference to another file called “Suspicions”. Crowley rubbed his eyes.

Crowley opened a file marked “Advent chain” and found dozens of emails between Gabriel and the furniture company. There were some that he hadn’t seen before. He nodded as he read – it was more of the same but clearly showed the link between Gabriel and the company. This file had a note also directing the reader to “Suspicions.” He opened the “Suspicions” file and looked in surprise at the length. It was over 12 pages.  It started with a short paragraph explaining that everything in the document were things Aziraphale suspected but either had lost evidence supporting the assertion (marked with an L) or that had no evidence (N). Crowley read through it, sipping the whiskey occasionally and forgetting to be furious. He was increasingly impressed with what he saw but paused in shock when he came across a short note towards the end of the document. “What is Oversight? Linked to FBI but no idea who or what it is. FBI contact may be compromised.”

“Fuck!” He choked on a mouthful of whiskey and coughed. “Fuck,” he said again as he re-read the statement.

Crowley stood up and started pacing up and down the living room. “How the absolute fuck have you come across Oversight, Angel? What the fuck are you doing!?” Aziraphale was really good at his job. He was wasted in Sanctuary. Crowley stopped dead and replayed his own thoughts. This didn’t add up at all. Why had Aziraphale given him all of this – which seemed to be exactly what he said it was in the bar – and then still distracted him for Gabriel? Did Gabriel make him do it? Or was he happy to pretend he was distracting Crowley on Gabriel’s orders so that he could sneak him the USB key? He certainly had been the one to suggest sex that night. Crowley had tried to decline – not very hard but he had tried to leave. Aziraphale had had the room key before Crowley even arrived – he had planned to sleep with him from the beginning. Did Aziraphale want to sleep with him because he was attracted to him, like it seemed at the time, or was it to pacify Gabriel so he wouldn’t follow through on his threat to evict people? Or was it a game between Aziraphale and Gabriel as he had thought when he saw the text message?

Crowley’s head swam. He couldn’t figure out what any of this meant. But one thought now dominated all the others: He’ll fucking hate me now if he didn’t before. How could Aziraphale ever forgive what he had said on Tuesday morning if he wasn’t working with Gabriel? He hadn’t given him the slightest opportunity to explain – he’d just been a prick and left. And oh god… the money! “What have I done?”

Crowley groaned, sat on the edge of the coffee table and ran his hands through his hair. “What the fuck is going on?”

Chapter Text

Week 4: Monday (Day 7 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Crowley slept badly that night. He was tormented by dreams. Aziraphale screaming at him that he was vile and wanted nothing to do with him; Aziraphale wrapped around Gabriel and both of them laughing at him; Lucas smiling at him and pushing a knife into his left kidney; and most bizarrely Lucas and Aziraphale wrapped in an intimate embrace and insisting that he watch as they pointed out everything they preferred about each other over Crowley. He woke drenched in sweat and breathing hard with his mind in turmoil. He rubbed his eyes and dragged himself from bed into the shower where he stood until he felt slightly calmer. He was in court this morning and needed to focus. 

He went from the shower to the coffee machine and considered everything he had learned so far. Too much and not enough. He did, however, feel better than yesterday. Blips happened and it wasn’t as if his line of work was low stress. It didn’t matter than he had spent most of yesterday as an emotional wreck. That’s what weekends were for. He had no idea what Aziraphale was up to or whether he was everything he said – an honest cop trying to do the right thing – or a highly manipulative player in a dangerous game. Whichever it was, he had been oddly quite for the last week. If he was an honest cop maybe he had finally done what he said and was stepping back. But that would mean that he was disgusted with Crowley and wouldn’t contact him after their last parting. If he was acting, he still wouldn’t make contact for the same reason. It was impossible to know. His heart twisted, not knowing which he would prefer. Whichever kept Aziraphale safer, he supposed.

His thoughts turned to the files he had read on Aziraphale’s USB and he tried to think about them objectively, without his emotions getting in the way. He needed to remember that this, now, was work and his feelings needed to be removed from his thinking. If Aziraphale had set him up that didn’t mean that the files were not useful. If he hadn’t, well he’d deal with that later. There was the rest of his life to feel like a prick. He didn’t have to do it right now. And he wasn’t going to waste time on it when he didn’t actually know. He needed to figure out what was going on, not how he felt.

He hadn’t read everything on the USB key yet but it would have to wait until later.  He pushed Aziraphale from his mind and focused on preparing for court. Today was more complicated and he hadn’t gotten anything useful to bribe or threaten the judge with so he’d have to go in hard instead. He smiled. That was just what he needed to refocus his still sluggish mind.

***

Crowley enjoyed the court session. Gabriel had insisted that the prosecutor was friendly and wouldn’t try too hard but Crowley didn’t see why he should take that as sufficient reason to play nice. So he didn’t.  He had finished by suggesting that the prosecutor get a copy of the transcript from the morning hearing and use it as evidence that he deserved a refund from his law school. The public gallery, who had enjoyed the show up to this point, erupted in gales of laughter leading to the judge to scold Crowley for showboating. It didn’t matter. Case dismissed. Crowley grinned at Gabriel as he gathered his papers together.

“Do you still object to how much I cost?”

Gabriel was looking at him slightly uncomfortably. “No. Do you still think you’ll be here for the full six weeks?”

“No. To be honest, this is all a bit basic for me and I’m nearly done now. I’ve told you I don’t like it here and that’s true so if I can leave early I will. It will save you a reasonable bit of money if I go on the right terms, so you should be happy about that. But I won’t trigger the leave clause until I’m sure we’re all sorted and we have court dates into next week. I’m nearly done with the big things and then its loose ends.”

Gabriel nodded. Crowley looked at him properly. He looked tired and he hadn’t reacted to Crowley insulting his city. Before he could think he asked, “Are you alright? You don’t look as happy as I’d expect for a man who just had a big win against political opponents and won’t be forced to sit through additional hearings and even a trial. Today was a big win, Gabriel. Is Aziraphale keeping you up all night? I hope he doesn’t make you go to that awful trailer for a shag. But you know, whatever floats your respective boats.” Crowley snapped his briefcase closed and looked around for his coat.

Gabriel scrunched his face looking unhappy. “It’s not that simple with Aziraphale, despite what you may think. And I haven’t seen him for over a week, which is good. He’s finally behaving. He did all this for attention, you know. It’s just… out of character. Anyway, yes I am pleased. Very pleased.” Crowley slipped into his heavy coat and considered this. He couldn’t believe anything Gabriel said in general and certainly not anything he said in relation to Aziraphale but he looked at least a little concerned. And Aziraphale had caused him a lot of trouble. And given Crowley his evidence and suspicions. He pushed the thought out of his head. Now was not the time for this. They walked out of the courtroom and down the long corridor towards the main entrance.

“Do you want to join me for lunch? Gabriel asked somewhat vaguely. Crowley was about to accept, hoping he might get more information from Gabriel on something useful if he did so when an attractive young woman stepped in front of them.

“Mr Crowley, could I have a brief word, please?”

He looked at her in confusion. “I’m sorry but I’m not taking any clients or talking to journalists or whatever you are.”

She smiled at him and said, “I have a question about dealing with a case. It’s a tricky one with a client tormented by garden snakes.”

Crowley’s heart tried to jump out of his mouth. Right here! In the fucking courthouse in front of fucking Archer! He struggled to keep his face straight and rolled his eyes instead. “I’m also not a mentor.”

“Please? Five minute, no more. I’ve never seen anyone so good in a courtroom. You’re amazing.”

Gabriel looked at him bemused. “You are fairly good, to be fair. Maybe you should answer her questions about gardening or whatever. We can do lunch tomorrow.” Gabriel’s eyes moved over the young woman approvingly. “If he can’t answer your questions, I’m happy to give it a try,” he said with a lecherous grin that Crowley assumed he thought was charming. The woman smiled politely.

“Fine. Tomorrow? You’re not in the office later?”

“Do you need me?”

“No, nothing that can’t wait. Tomorrow is fine.”

Gabriel nodded and left. Crowley smiled politely at the young woman and hissed, “Outside and down the street to the left.”

They walked out of the building and towards a large coffee shop that Crowley used frequently when he was in court. It should be relatively empty at this time and was large enough that he could be sure they were not being overheard. He pointed the young woman to a corner of the coffee shop and ordered at the counter.

He gestured at her to move when he reached the table. She glared at him but moved to the outside seat. If anyone was having the view of the shop it was going to be him and she could like it or lump it. 

“Crowley, we need…”

“Shut up. Not yet.”

He opened his briefcase and took out the little signal blocker and a notebook. He turned it on and placed it on the table under the notebook. He sat in stony silence until the waitress brought the two coffees and left.

“Are you fucking insane? You cannot just walk up to me like that in front of fucking Archer. What is it? Your first job? Because we must be in dire fucking straights if they are sending someone so bloody inexperienced to make contact. Start fucking talking. And smile. We’re meant to be having a pleasant conversation about someone’s garden. Or whatever that shoehorned code word was meant to mean.”

She looked slightly abashed but glared at him as she plastered a smile onto her face. “The Witch said you could be a prick.”

“Is she ok? Update me. What’s going on?”

“She’s… ok. But things are not good. There have been a lot of failed missions in the last 18 months. Something has changed and Oversight are getting more ambitious, more ruthless. Or more desperate, we don’t know. Two of our group have been killed in the last year. One in Mexico and one in Switzerland last week. She’s worried that we’re compromised but she doesn’t know if that’s true or if the agents got caught up in existing Oversight operations because we are tracking them. And we have nothing on the mole but whoever they are they know a lot.”

Crowley shuddered. Mexico and Switzerland. This was so bad. “I think things are coming to a head here. I need a way to get word out. When I’m ready, I’ll have a significant Oversight player and maybe more. I don’t know yet.”

“That’s why I’m here. We didn’t get anything from the files you sent on Saturday night but the Witch assumed that if you had finally managed to get into the office then you must be getting close. She assumed it was an attempt at contact when the files themselves turned out to be worthless.”

He nodded. “Partly. Fine. How will this work?”

“I thought I could pose as a junior that you hired to help or something?”

Crowley’s jaw dropped in horror and he reconsidered what he had said a few minutes ago. “Is this actually your first job?”

She nodded.

He felt sick. She was so young. Then again, he had been in his mid-twenties when he started too. He pursed his lips in concern that he hoped looked like irritation.

“Ok. This is really dangerous. You shouldn’t be here. And you will not be hanging around me. You’ll die. Plain and simple. Ok. Ok… You’re going to get set up somewhere. Pretend to be on holiday or get a job as a waitress or whatever. I will text you when I’m ready and you call in to the Witch or whoever your handler is. Got that? You do NOTHING else.”

She looked furious. “I can help!”

“This is what I need you to do.” He moved closer to her over the table and looked at her intensely. “I will kill you myself if you endanger this mission right at the end. Do you understand me?” She shrank back in fear. “Some of us think you’re one of them. It would make sense.”

He smiled cruelly. “If I am, you won’t survive the night. Lucky for you, I’m not. And use your fucking brain – how could I be of any use to them? I don’t know the details of any operation apart from this one and my only contact at home is the Witch, to whom I do not have a rapid or direct line. Stop fucking around and do what I say.” He took a pen out of his pocket and, covering the signal blocker with his hand, moved the notebook towards her. “A name you will respond to and a number that you will answer a text or call from day or night. Then fuck off. I’ll contact you when I’m ready for you.”

Her hand shook as she picked up the pen. He might have over-done it but he needed her to do what she was told and a young agent was a liability. Things were not good if the Witch was using agents with no experience. She returned the notebook. He flipped it open and saw the number and the name. “Pepper,” he said with a smile. “I like it. Now please do what I am telling you. Back all the way off and wait. Whatever is going to happen will happen in the next two or maybe three weeks.” She nodded.

“Thank you for your advice Mr Crowley. Maybe we can speak again at some point? I’ve a job as a clerk in the courthouse so you’ll see me around.”

Fuck! Little bitch could have mentioned that. Reckless but not as innocent as she appears.

“How convenient. I’m sure you will learn a lot while you are there and it is likely that we will bump into each other but I am very busy and unlikely to have time for chats.” He stood up abruptly, shoved notebook, pen and signal blocker into his briefcase and walked out not concealing his displeasure.

***

Crowley stormed back down the road away from the coffee shop and towards the Mayor’s building. He didn’t know what the Witch was playing at sending someone so inexperienced. Pepper could blow everything by accident. But if she did as he said and kept a low profile then she might be useful. She might even survive. Pity she hadn’t just given him a number for the Witch and pissed off again.

The conversation played out over again in his head and he worried about what it meant. It was too much of a coincidence that a Garden operative had died in Mexico while Lucas was there and in Switzerland when a suspicious plane crash that benefited Lucas’ father occurred. But it was Oversight in Switzerland. Michael was the operative. Pepper said their people were sure it was Oversight. Could Lucas be involved with them? But it was a pseudo-government organisation and interested in disrupting the operations of other governments, not making money for gangsters. Even Lucas couldn’t have spread out that much in three years, surely? And then, if he was involved with Oversight, why was Michael so desperate to get him?

He growled and rubbed his eyes as he walked through the large spinning glass doors of the Mayor’s building. He couldn’t figure this out and work at the same time. This was all far too much. Everything was happening too fast and was too disorganised. He needed time to think. He went up to Gabriel’s office before his own and asked his secretary to tell the Mayor that he would work from the hotel the rest of the day and tomorrow. He needed to look at the rest of the files on Aziraphale’s USB. Maybe that would help him to figure things out. He picked up some files from his own office but instead of leaving immediately went back to the secretary.

“Greta, has Aziraphale been in contact at all this week?”

“No Mr. Crowley. Is there any reason that he should be? I think Mayor Archer is relieved that he is finally keeping his head down.”

Crowley smiled as a mild flutter of concern passed through his stomach. But that was ridiculous. Regardless of whether Aziraphale was playing him or furious, there was no good reason for him to be making contact with either him or Gabriel right now. Of course the secretary could be hiding any contact with Gabriel. “Nope, just checking that he’s behaving. Thanks.”

Monday evening

Gabriel sat in the upscale bar waiting for Lucas. He was irritated at being summoned and even more at it being in one of the few bars he didn’t have shares in. Lucas was still insisting on his presence in Sanctuary being kept quiet and Gabriel found that irritating too. He wanted people to know that he was working with the reclusive but generous philanthropist. It would look good coming up to next year’s election. The election that he still hadn’t declared for because Lucas demanded he wait. And since he had promised to bankroll it and they were going to trial their plan on it, he didn’t have a choice. He was, however, pleased with the events of earlier today. Even if Crowley was still bitchy and tight-lipped. He had won viciously. Gabriel enjoyed watching him destroy the prosecutors. Though today had been one he owned so Crowley hadn’t needed to go in quite so hard. He seemed to get real pleasure in it though and who was Gabriel to deny someone their vindictive joys? He wondered vaguely if Crowley had taken the pretty girl who had pulled him away from lunch to bed this afternoon. After utterly destroying someone in court like that, who wouldn’t want to work the adrenaline off in a fun way? Maybe he did have a wife after all. Who knew? He wasn’t even sure he cared all that much anymore. He wanted this all sorted and the prick out of Sanctuary.

“You don’t look very happy, Gabriel. Can I get you a drink, since I know you don’t like to pay unless you own the bar?”

Gabriel bit back a caustic response. Working with – not for – with Morningstar was even more irritating when he was in the city. “Sure. Whiskey with ice.”

“No problem.”

Gabriel watched Lucas walk to the bar and smile that the woman serving. She grinned back at him and was clearly flirting. He frowned. He’d never get any action in the bar with Lucas around and Beez wasn’t talking to him at the moment. She wasn’t happy with how he’d been dealing with Aziraphale and didn’t trust Morningstar. Gabriel, on the other hand, was less than happy that Uriel hadn’t been fully brought into line. He was sick of arguing with her and getting bored of his other steady options at the moment. He was increasingly annoyed that Aziraphale had turned him down and for that prick of a lawyer too.

A glass was plonked on the table and Lucas sat down opposite him.

“How are the legal problems?”

Gabriel took a sip of the whiskey and nodded appreciatively. At least Morningstar wasn’t cheap. “Better. You were right about Crowley. He’s brilliant. I think most of it is sorted but he seems a bit distracted the last few days and there are still some outstanding issues to sort. We’ve another court date on Thursday. I think he’ll be finished on schedule. He said it might be sooner but with the existing dates in court, I don’t see that. I wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t drinking the Apex dry. He’s costing me a fortune.”

Lucas looked at him clearly surprised. “That’s unusual. He doesn’t tend to drink much when he’s in the middle of a large job. Or he didn’t anyway. Well regardless he is the best lawyer that I have ever worked with. Are you doing what I said and giving him everything?”

“Oh yeah, of course, Lucas.” No, that little prick doesn’t need everything and neither do you. He has what he needs.

“You better be because if you’re not and he leaves Sanctuary before I am ready, you and I will have a problem.”

“Why don’t you just tell him that you’re here? He’s your ex, right?”

Lucas’ lips compressed and he drank. “Not exactly and not your business.”

“It is if you’re dragging Aziraphale into it.”

Lucas eyed him intensely, making him feel deeply uncomfortable. “Why do you call him… Azirafail? And not Az like everyone else.”

“Aziraphale,” said Gabriel slightly narkily and pronouncing each syllable precisely.

“Aziraphale, my apologies.”

“He shortened it because he didn’t want to inconvenience the illiterate.”  Lucas raised an eyebrow that sent a shiver down Gabriel’s spine. He smiled his best politician smile. “An exaggeration. He likes his full name and liked that I took the miniscule amount of time needed to learn to say it correctly. Most people can’t be bothered if a name is even vaguely unusual and he felt it was a constant embarrassment to request the basic respect of having people say his name correctly. Honestly, the abbreviation infuriates me. It wouldn’t bother me if he preferred it but I know he doesn’t. It also sounded great at events. Gabriel and Aziraphale Archer always sounded good.”

Lucas was clearly repressing a smile at this minor tirade.

“He changed his name? That can’t have been convenient after the divorce.”

“Ah not really. Just for the political stuff. Not officially.”

“I see. A united front for the masses. Why do you want him back so much? It’s not like you’re going to suddenly be faithful to him. And you don’t ever have anything good to say about him. Even now, when you are defending him, you are clearly irritated by his unwillingness to make a fuss about his name.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I… look… he’s… he’s very nice, ok and I like that. I don’t know anyone else who genuinely cares about anything other than their own interests and desires. Even if that brings problems too – he was such a pain with the bribes. Aziraphale really cares about things. He’s brilliant at getting people onside for charities and hosting events. I’ve pulled in noticeably less in donations since our split. He’s a really good political husband and having a cop on my arm gets votes all by itself. Loses some too of course but far less than social media would suggest. He’s bloody worth his slightly excessive weight in donations and votes. Great in bed too but you can always ask Crowley about that.” Gabriel smiled at the flash of rage that swept across Lucas’ face.

“I see. So you actually do love him, in as much as you understand the concept.”

Gabriel glared across the table. “Fuck you.”

Lucas smiled and Gabriel repressed a shiver. “Absolutely not, Gabriel. Mind your manners,” he said softly.

“its part of our deal – Aziraphale isn’t to be hurt and he is coming back, whether he wants to or not. He’s just being stubborn. He’ll be much better off with me at home than pushing this nonsense. I can keep him out of the way then too.”

“Humm… he’s causing a lot of trouble. And I am displeased about him seducing Crowley. But I’ll do my best, of course. If you actually do care about him, why did you treat him so poorly?”

Gabriel looked at the ceiling and swirled the glass slightly, making the whiskey flow around its containment and the ice clink softly against the glass. “I… Oh I don’t know. I got a bit bored, other options because available as they do with money and power. Haven’t you ever been tempted when you were with Crowley?”

“No,” said Lucas.

“Really? Well that’s quite something.  Particularly given how easily he moved on when you split.” Gabriel thought for the briefest moment that he had gone too far and rushed on before Lucas could hit him there and then. “When we were married and things were good, he… well he lit up the room when he was hosting an event. Everyone loved him. You’d never think he grew up, not poor, but you know not with any real money. He could move through a crowd of millionaires and make each one of them feel special and then if we were at some charity thing, he did the same, in exactly the same way with people living on nothing. To Aziraphale they’re all just people, all the same and all worthy of being treated with kindness. It’s lovely. And annoying when he doesn’t understand that the rich people are more important for elections. And well… everyone liked him more than me and that got fucking tedious. Particularly when he was whining about bribes and being all holier-than-thou about everything. He can be such a bitch when he wants to be. And then he got so annoyed with me that he wouldn’t even share a bed, never mind do anything in one, so it seemed pointless.”

Lucas grimaced. “You’re such an old romantic. Did it ever occur to you to try and change your own behaviour? To make any effort? To care for him? No. I didn’t think so.” Gabriel didn’t reply. He knew he hadn’t treated Aziraphale well in the latter half of their marriage but he didn’t need Lucas fucking Morningstar to point it out. Morningstar who’s ex had been fucking Aziraphale. There was something weird going on there. Maybe Lucas would be annoyed enough at Crowley to just bloody kill him. Though hopefully not before he finished dealing with the legal stuff.

“Anyway,” Lucas continued, “Aziraphale is not why I’m here. Have you arranged the rest of the deliveries? I need a pause. I don’t want a lot of activity around the Waterfront this week. I have something else that I need to finish up first.”

Gabriel regarded Lucas suspiciously. Why was he so focused on Aziraphale and his name? Was it just that he didn’t like to feel Gabriel could do something, however minor, that he couldn’t? Did he know Crowley said the name correctly seemingly without any effort? If he was actually jealous of Aziraphale sleeping with Crowley, that could be a real problem.  

“Well you could have told me that before. Deliveries are supposed to start again on Wednesday. It’s the last few trucks Is it not just better to get it finished?”

“No. Put it off a week. No excuses. I need it quiet for the next while.”

“If you put it off, we’re not going to be ready on time.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “It is my timeline, Gabriel. I will decide what counts as on time. I need your legal problems cleared up and then we can move forward. Most of the equipment is there anyway, so it won’t delay us by much. I have one of the labs functional so we can start soon. Stop worrying.”

“Right, fine. I want to talk about the election. It’s nearly December. I need to declare. This is taking too long. You don’t know what it’s like here. They need a good run up to actually care enough to vote and donors are going to be pulled away by other candidates if I don’t make my intentions clear.”

“You don’t need to worry about votes. We’ve discussed this. We will trial everything with the governor race. Anyway, for reasons that allude me, you’re popular. You shouldn’t need any assistance, which is what makes you an ideal test case. Stop whining. You are not to declare until I tell you to. If you do, I’ll tank your election. Do as you are told.”

Lucas finished the whiskey in his glass and stood up glaring at Gabriel. “I have more important things to do now. Stick to the plan and if you deviate, I will not be pleased. I hope you understand what that means.” He turned and sauntered out of the bar.

Gabriel looked after him and shuddered. He regretted this deal. Crowley was useful, definitely, and he was glad to have things cleared up but he didn’t trust him an inch and Lucas was terrifying. Even Gabriel couldn’t pretend that he had any control over what was happening now. Lucas’ fixation on Aziraphale was deeply worrying. He had never expected Aziraphale, of all people, to get in trouble for sleeping around. He gazed after Lucas and wondered if he should warn his ex-husband. Probably better to leave it alone for now since he was actually being quiet for once. He’d wait a while and see how things developed.

***

Early hours of Tuesday morning (Day 8 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Crowley was exhausted but still pouring over the documents on Aziraphale’s USB. He was comparing them to what he had from Gabriel and cross-referencing everything. So far, every single assertion on Aziraphale’s key appeared true. Everything linked to something that he had from Gabriel. Between the two, he could put Gabriel behind bars for decades. But he wasn’t here for a pawn. He felt increasingly ill as he went through everything. Aziraphale had not lied to him.  He poured another whiskey and felt his thoughts start to spiral again. He breathed deeply and refocused. If he had fucked up with Aziraphale, maybe it was for the best. He’d hate him and stay away, just like he was doing in fact. He’d be safer away from Crowley. That was better. Much better than him trying to help or doing something stupid. He licked his lips in worry and stood up. He paced up and down the living area and his thoughts turned again to the arrival of the new MI6 agent and what she had said about Oversight. Lucas couldn’t be involved with them but what other explanation was there for efficient murders that looked like accidents in both Mexico and Switzerland? He wished he knew more about how the agents had died. Lucas had a particular pattern with accidents that he would recognise. But of course, he didn’t have that information. The Witch had it all set up so that no one got the whole view. That way, no one could give it all away but it also meant he couldn’t figure this out.

He moved to the safe and took out Michael’s USB. If he could see what was on it, he might be able to figure out more. He looked at the piece of paper from her notebook and decided to try an old childhood trick. He used to leave his sister secret messages when they were kids to entertain her. Sometimes it was a code, other times just difficult to read. Like the note. There was a small notepad and pencil affixed to a magnetic back on the fridge in the kitchen. He took the pencil and carefully scribbled along the indentations with the flat of the lead. It revealed part of a message. “Arch.” That meant nothing to him and it looked like the rest of the word hadn’t been imprinted. Who the fuck is Arch? Probably Archie or something. Not a clue.”  He scrunched the paper up and threw in in the trash. Desperately, he put the USB into the computer and typed “Arch” into the password box. It was declined and a message flashed up “four attempts remaining.” At least he knew that now but otherwise this was currently a dead end.

His thoughts swam back to Aziraphale. Aziraphale to whom he had been utterly terrible. His stomach flipped again. Why could he never just wait and think? Why had he not asked? He’d ruined everything there. But what “everything”? It’s not like he was going to finish his job here and ride off into the sunset with the angelic detective. He’d spent too much time in the US with their heroic happy endings. This was a British story and happy endings were not their forte. So, likely Aziraphale hated him and was keeping his head down as he said he would when they had talked in the Potted Plant last Monday. Over a week ago now. And Gabriel hadn’t heard from him either. But he’d been threatening him – assuming that was true. But it must be if Aziraphale hadn’t lied to him. “Gaah! Fuck’s sake!” What was true? He slammed the glass back down on the table and sat back on the sofa. He dozed fitfully for a few hours and then gave up. He had to know if Aziraphale was alright. He’d take getting shouted at or even punched in exchange. 

***

An hour before sunrise, Crowley was lurking around the trailer park looking for signs of life. It was too early to bang on Aziraphale’s door but he needed to be in the office today and in court this afternoon so he had to check early. At 7 am he gave up and knocked on the door. He got no response. He banged a bit harder. Nothing. “Aziraphale?”

“He ain’t there mister,” said a small voice nearby. He looked around in the gloom and saw a small scratty child glaring at him from behind a tree.

“Oh? And how do you know that?”

“I don’t rat to cops!”

“Detective Fell is a cop. I’m not. I’m… a friend. I’m worried about him.”

“Brian, get back here,” hissed a female voice trying to attract the child without making noise. “It’s too early to be disturbing people. Get back home. NOW!”

“Hello?”

A thin blond woman who could be a ragged thirty or a reasonably aging but stressed forty came into view and stamped her foot at the boy, who immediately turned around and disappeared.

“I’m sorry, sir, if he was annoying you. He likes to have a bit of a run about before school but he shouldn’t be out this early in the winter. I’m terribly sorry.”

Crowley felt deeply uncomfortable at her clear fear of him. Because of the suit, he realised and felt slightly dirty by association. He worked for people who would wipe her life away without thought. He shook himself and smiled politely. “He’s no bother, ma’am. I’m looking for Detective Fell. Do you know if he is here?”

She looked at him with suspicion. “Why are you looking for him? Do you work for his ex-husband?”

“I do. But I am concerned that the recent unpleasantness has had a severe impact on Detective Fell’s mental health. I’m terribly worried about what he might do and I want to see that he is alright. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.”

She glared at him, clearly unconvinced. He tried something else. “Ok, fine. It’s not that. I want to offer him a deal. His husband doesn’t know yet but I’m tired of the bickering and a financial settlement might just make everyone’s life easier.”

“Ex-husband and that sound more believable. You’re that lawyer, aren’t you?” Oh great.

“Probably.”

“Well, he’s not here and I hope he doesn’t come back. He’s a decent man and your bastard employer has treated him terribly. I haven’t seen him in over a week. Maybe he’s gone home.”

Crowley looked at her now starting to really worry. “You haven’t seen him for a week? No lights, nothing?”

“No.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

Aziraphale, where have you gone?  There was no way he had just decided to leave and not say anything to anyone. Though if he had left, there were people who would have to be told. That made his next stop obvious. He looked at his watch and sighed. But not today.

***

Wednesday afternoon (Day 9 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Gabriel was pacing up and down Crowley’s office, much to Crowley’s displeasure. He had taken his attention away from what should have been a simple court appearance and forgotten to file a document. He was furious with himself. He did not make these kinds of mistakes. And he wouldn’t have had he not been worrying about Aziraphale. He had asked around quietly and no one had seen or heard from him in well over a week. As far as he could tell, he had been the last person to see or speak with the detective. He couldn’t get him out of his damn head. He needed to speak with Uriel but he had not managed to get her schedule and he couldn’t just pop into her office in the precinct. He was barely paying attention to Gabriel’s ranting.

“I know! Will you shut up, Gabriel. I will fix it! Stop fucking whinging at me.”

Gabriel glared at him and snarled, “Maybe if you kept your dick in your pants you’d be more focused.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped and he looked at him in utter bafflement. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I saw that pretty little thing in the courthouse today. She was eyeing you up all morning. The new clerk you took for “coffee” on Monday. You’re clearly fucking her. And you’re off your game since she turned up. Most men focus more when they are fucking a hot enthusiastic girl with something to prove but of course you have to be contrary and leave your attention span in the fucking bedroom. And so much for being gay.”

Crowley’s entire mind stalled. He sat there with his mouth open like a fool looking at Gabriel in utter shock. He had identified Pepper – who clearly needed a talking to – but as usual got it all completely wrong.

“I am not off my game. I made a mistake. I’m brilliant not fucking infallible. I will sort it. As for the girl, give me a fucking break. She offered, I declined. I am not into women. And she’s far too young even if I was. She’s got a crush. That’s all.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yes. I’m not you Gabriel. She made up that nonsense case to get me alone and then offered to either help with my work or just sleep with me. It’s not unusual. It’s frustrating. I declined. Now, we’ve to be back in court in less than two hours so can you please calm down and fuck off so I can fix this?” He shook his head in a mixture of amusement and anger as Gabriel stormed out of his office and slammed the door. In a weird way, if Gabriel could stop thinking absolutely everything revolved around sex, he would actually be formidable with how much he noticed. As it was, he was a moron.

The court was running late and they ended up in there until after 8 pm. Thankfully, the judge accepted his appeal and the new documentation. It wasn’t as clean as is should have been and they would need to go back tomorrow morning, which was annoying because there was another case tomorrow afternoon. Crowley left a still sulking Gabriel and went back to the office. He had a lot of work to do and if he went back to the hotel he would just look at file after file on Aziraphale’s USB again to make sure he felt as stupid and bad as possible for utterly misjudging him. Or stare at the blinking password request on Michael’s USB to feel as useless as possible. So to avoid the temptation of torturing himself, he would stay in the office.

As he walked back to the office, his phone rang. His second phone. He answered and heard Michael’s clipped tones coming down the line. “Sorry it’s taken a while to get back to you. What do you have for me?”

He didn’t need this right now. “Nothing much now. I sorted the problem. Gabriel found this phone but the backup and coded texts worked fine. He thinks you’re my secret green-card loving wife.” She snorted down the phone. “I have most of his legal problems sorted apart from the ones I want the FBI to find but when depends on when you want to get Morningstar. He’s here. I’m still looking for an actual connection between him and Gabriel but if you come and arrest them in the Waterfront together I imagine there will be plenty of evidence for you to choose. You need to think about when you are going to come. Sooner is probably better.”

There was silence on the phone for a few moments. “Yes. Ok. Things are a little more complex than they were. This is still our best opportunity to get him but it’s become a bit political. I need more time.”

Fuck… is Lucas involved with them??

“Well, I’m here for another two, maybe three weeks. Then, if you haven’t made use of the opportunity, I’m gone. I’ve had enough and you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”

“You’ll stay here until I tell you that you can go.”

“Yeah, no. You don’t have anything on me. I’m clean. I’ll leave when this is done one way or the other.”

“I’ll tell Morningstar you’re working for us. How about that?”

Crowley’s spine turned to ice. “You’ll have to prove it.” He hung up and tried, yet again, not to panic. He definitely needed an answer to that if she was willing to sell him out so easily. Lucas would kill him if he found out. Very, very slowly.

He shuddered and then texted the number Pepper had given him on his usual phone. He had memorised it rather than input it to the phone for her safety. “No more longing looks at me. Gabriel thinks you’re trying to sleep with me. Cop yourself on and back off.” Once he saw that it had been read, he deleted it.

Week 4: Thursday evening (Day 10 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Uriel turned the key to her apartment and sighed. Happy to be home. She flicked the light in the hall on and threw her keys in the little bowl on the small hall table. She desperately wanted a coffee and to sit quietly in front of the TV watching a romantic comedy and forgetting about everything that was wrong in Sanctuary. She kicked her shoes off and walked into the bedroom to lock her gun away in the safe. She sighed as she closed and locked the safe. She had been subject to another round of shouting from Beez this evening and really just didn’t know what to say at this point. A patrol car had gone down to the Waterfront and been attacked. She wanted to send more people down to look around and see what was going there. Beez was very clear that the Waterfront was not to be disturbed and since it was effectively derelict, it was a waste of resources to police it. Which all meant that Aziraphale was right and something bad was going down over there. She would have to decide what to do tomorrow. She knew what she wanted to do but she also didn’t want to get fired.

She walked slowly into her kitchen and made a coffee, then went to the living room and turned on the lights. She screamed and dropped the coffee.

“Well that’s a shame. That smelt nice. Why don’t you sit down, Captain and we can have a little chat. If you don’t mind?” Crowley sat in the other chair, smirking at her.

“Get the fuck out!”

“I don’t like repeating myself. Sit down, Captain. Or you will regret not doing so. I know your gun is locked away. You’re a good police officer, after all. So please, before this has to turn unpleasant, just sit.”

Her breathe stuttered and she couldn’t see if he was holding a gun or just sitting in such a way that he might be concealing one. He looked at her with horrifyingly cold eyes. She sat.

“This doesn’t have to be unpleasant and I would rather than it not be. I don’t like getting blood on my clothes. So if you answer me, I’ll leave and you can get on with your evening. How about that?”

“If you lay a finger on me, you will spend the rest of your life behind bars.”

He laughed. “You can’t possibly believe that? In this city? Beez would just give me a bonus. And I don’t even work for her.”

That was probably true. She didn’t really believe that violence was Crowley’s style but she’d seen him in court enough to know how much he enjoyed torturing people with words. Maybe that was all he was doing. Maybe. She licked her lips nervously.

“Stop trying to intimidate me and ask me what you’re here to ask. Then fuck off.”

He smiled and it froze her in place. She’d seen him in court but this was something else entirely. She was suddenly certain that he would kill her and probably not think about it ever again.

“I’m not trying to intimidate you. I’m successfully intimidating you. But fine. I don’t actually want to be here. Where is Aziraphale? He’s been disturbingly quiet for the last while.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I do.”

“Has he turned you down for another night? Is that it? Just leave him alone.”

Crowley looked momentarily surprised. “He told you we slept tougher?”

“Yes. I assume you were setting him up. He’ll be fired when that comes out. I can’t protect him. But I have a question for you. Why does the FBI have a file on you that only the highest ranks can access? There are a few reasons it might be and I’d like to know which it is.”

He grinned at her. “Oh I’m a secret agent sent here by the FBI to sleep with Gabriel’s husband in a sexy plan to foil his evil escapades. Don’t worry about me. Where is Aziraphale?”

“Why does the FBI have that file locked?”

He pursed his lips and glared at her. “You’re a bit player in a shit town Uriel. Don’t fuck me around. And don’t make me ask again.” He stood up and loomed over her. She still couldn’t tell if the hand in his pocket held a gun. She swallowed. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him since I told him to back off the last time we spoke, which was two weeks ago now.”

“Thank you.” He moved past her and was almost out into the hall when she stood up and said, “My FBI contact says there is another file linked to yours that he can’t access but it has a word attached too. What is Archangel?”

Crowley stopped and turned to look at her. “Not a clue.” He walked away.

***

Crowley raced away from Uriel’s apartment with his heart thundering in his ears.  She didn’t know where Aziraphale was either. And what the fuck was Archangel? His best Lucas impression had clearly scared her so he was reasonably sure she would have told him if she knew where Aziraphale was or if she knew he had left town. He was really worried now. If Aziraphale had left town, he would have told her. He might be asked to speak at any number of hearings that were going on and had been told to tell her if he wasn’t in Sanctuary for any length of time. Where are you Angel? If he had gone sniffing around the Waterfront again, he could be dead in an alley and no one would find him for weeks. Maybe he should go and check?

He walked back to where he had parked his car and drove back to the Apex. He sat in the living space looking at the memory key and feeling nauseous wave after nauseous wave of guilt crash through him. He had gotten everything wrong and now Aziraphale was missing. Was there anyone else he could ask? For the briefest moment he considered calling Gabriel and asking him for help but that was insane. Who else knew Aziraphale and might either hide him or know where he would go if he had run from Sanctuary?

Unbidden, “Arch” floated through his mind and he sat up straight and moved his gaze from Aziraphale’s USB to Michael’s. “Who or what is Archangel?” Archangel – it fit with Lucas’ pattern of names. It couldn’t be though. It just couldn’t. As if moved by an unseen force, Crowley picked up the USB and slotted it into his computer. The key scanned the computer and the computer scanned the key. When both were happy, the little password dialogue box appeared. This was worth wasting a password chance on.

He typed Archangel into the box and the key opened immediately. His heart started to pound and he clicked on the contents folder. A stream of folders opened in front of his eyes and he knew. He was certain this was what he needed. He clicked into a folder and saw a list of place names. One was the small town outside of Switzerland where the plane had crashed recently. Another was a town in Mexico where the Garden operative had likely died. And another near a gas pipeline that had exploded about six months ago. That one looked familiar.

He opened his own files and found the reference he was looking for. Megiddo owned the company that had bought the contract out after the explosion. This was Lucas. But it made no sense. What the fuck was he doing? How was he involved with Oversight and why was Michael trying to get him arrested if they were on the same side? “Oh god,” he groaned. He needed to tell the Witch. He considered calling Pepper in but that didn’t seem like a good idea. He could tell her to contact the Witch and leave it there for her. Then he remembered the uplink. There was no reason it wouldn’t work again.

He cast around looking for the little uplink device. It was buried under paperwork. It couldn’t interact with the USB – he had tried that already – but now that he had that open, he could copy the files onto his computer. He wouldn’t have time to read them all anyway. It took an hour to move everything from the USB to the computer but once they were transferred he pushed the uplink into one of the little slots on his laptop. The dialogue box opened and he saw it make its connection. He instructed it to copy everything on his laptop. That way if anything did happen to him, the Witch had everything he had and could pick up where he left off.  The bar moved agonisingly slowly. This would take a long time but maybe, just maybe the Witch would get what she needed now.

He clicked into a few other folders, even though he knew this would slow progress. His breath caught when he found the list of MI6 agents. He read down the list in utter horror. They had almost everyone. There were asterisks beside some names. He thought they were agents who had gotten in the way because he knew two of them were dead. There were some others who might be spies. He raced through the list looking for his name but didn’t find it. He didn’t think Pepper was there but the Witch was. She was listed as a low-level informant. He breathed a sigh of relief. They knew she existed but not really who she was or what she was doing. Madam was there, of course. This was horrendous. He clicked on another list and found a long list of French-sounding names. Another revealed a shorter list of Canadians and another with a few Germans. He squeezed his eyes shut. This was an utter disaster. He hoped that the uplink, once it was done, would warn his friend. He searched through as much as he could but there was nothing on who the high-end spy in MI6 was. Nothing. And what was Archangel? Apart from a damming suggestion of Lucas’ involvement given his predilection for biblical code-names there were only tenuous connections. Nothing real.

He woke on Friday morning with a sore back slumped over the coffee table several hours later. The uplink device was blinking white and the dialogue box indicated that it had done its job. He looked at his watch and realised he needed to be in the office in the next half an hour. Another court appearance beckoned. His mind was still whirling. This was all horrific. And much worse than he had ever imagined. He took the uplink out and, not knowing what else to do with it, stuck it inside a spare shoe. He placed the two USBs in the hidden compartment of his bible in the safe and then quickly changed and went to the office. He was terrified, exhausted and had a very long day ahead of him. But as he left, Aziraphale once again, dominated his thoughts. There was one person left who might have some idea of where he was – or if he was lucky, might even be helping him hide.

***

Week 4: Saturday (Day 12 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Crowley had not left the office until 1 am on Saturday morning. He was, however, back on track with the Gabriel nonsense and they didn’t have any more court appearances until the following Wednesday. He had wanted to follow his last lead to try to find Aziraphale but when he nearly drove his car into a lamppost he decided that it would have to wait until Saturday.

He passed out, totally exhausted and didn’t wake until the early afternoon. Cursing himself, he showered, ate and dressed. Late afternoon was probably the best time to visit the bar anyway. Hopefully, the owner would be there and willing to speak.

He needed to sit down with Michael’s files and go through them carefully but he was too worried about Aziraphale to do that first. Hopefully, he was staying in the bar and his friend would tell Crowley what a pig he was and to fuck off. Hopefully.

He drove out to the Potted Plant and looked around warily. He wasn’t happy about parking here. He pressed the lock on the car key and walked towards the bar. It was empty when he went in with only the woman he had seen Aziraphale speaking with standing behind the bar cleaning glasses.  He had timed it well.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said smoothly, “could I disturb you for a few minutes, please?”

She turned around and looked him up and down, frowning. “Are you lost, love?”

“Ah, no.”

“Well you better not be here to serve me. Have we met?”

“Yes. I was here a little under two weeks ago with a friend of yours. Detective Fell.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You were not dressed like a bitch of a lawyer that time. What do you want?”

“I’m looking for him. Thought he might be here.” She didn’t respond.

“Look, I’m trying to help, really. Aziraphale and I, well you know why we were here. And in part it was to hide it from our respective ex’s. I think you know his, yes?” She nodded. “He’s not here. I haven’t seen him since that night. I guess you both left before I came in the following morning. But that’s not unusual.”

Another, much more horrifying though bloomed in Crowley’s mind. Oh no.

“Well, mine is worse and… I was wondering…” his heart pounded in his ears. He could barely ask the question. “I was wondering if we were the only people here that night?” Please say yes. Say yes. SAY YES!

She shook her head and his heart sank. “No, there was another guy. Gorgeous. Tall with dark hair and eyes. Pleasant for the brief time I spoke to him. He drank too much and asked for a room. I gave him the one furthest way from you two for obvious reasons. I didn’t think he was that drunk but the bed didn’t look slept in when I went in to freshen the rooms the next day, so I guess he passed out on the floor.” She paused for a moment and then went on. “There might have been someone else though because I think someone must have snuck into the room beside yours. That bed had been sat on at least. I was sure the rooms were all locked. Why do you want to know?”

Crowley’s heart was now beating so fast he thought it would pound itself out of his body. He couldn’t see straight. This couldn’t be happening.

“Are you ok, love?”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

He didn’t remember getting back into the car. He had barely sat in it when he had to jump out and empty his stomach. He heaved until a small spot of blood appeared. He slid to the ground with his back resting on the car and shook. Lucas has Aziraphale. Oh god… he’s had him for nearly two weeks while I’ve been fucking around having a fucking tantrum… oh god… Aziraphale… are you even still alive?

His mind spun and tumbled though the nearly infinite possibilities of the ways that Lucas could hurt Aziraphale and he felt like screaming. This was all his fault. He never should have propositioned him. Never should have agreed to sleep with him a second time. He should have left him alone. And then he had assumed, on almost nothing, that Aziraphale had set him up and hadn’t noticed he was missing. He had, in fact, spent most of the intervening time fantasising about running away with Lucas. Lucas who was torturing Aziraphale. Or had already killed him. Everything that happened now was his fault. All of it.

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands and tried to calm himself. If Lucas had Aziraphale then he simply had to find Lucas and get him back. He had no idea how to do that but convincing Lucas that he had no further interest in Aziraphale would be essential. And to be fair, it was unlikely Aziraphale could hate him anymore than he must do already. He had to save him. All thoughts of Oversight, Archangel and MI6 were long gone from his mind as he dragged himself up off the ground and sat back in the car. He had to find Lucas.

***

Crowley drove back to the Apex with the intention of changing and looking at Aziraphale’s map of the Waterfront. He was fairly sure that Lucas was staying there. Nowhere else made any sense. He would be in one of the buildings that had electricity and water, so checking the map would narrow the search.

Distracted by horrible thoughts of what might be happening to Aziraphale he was only vaguely paying attention when he pulled the car into the underground carpark of the Apex. It was late and several lights were out, making the complex even darker than usual. Crowley got out of the car and walked around the back. His hands were shaking.

“Hello Crowley,” said a voice behind one of the pillars. His spun around and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Ricky. He didn’t have a chance to reply but he felt strong arms around him and a sharp pain in his neck. As he lost consciousness he heard Ricky say “Careful with him. If he’s injured, we’ll all have worse done to us. Fucking bastard. I wish he’d stayed gone.”

***

Week 5: Early hours of Sunday morning

Lucas sat on the bed beside Crowley and looked down at him. It had been so long since he’d seen him in the flesh. So long since he’d touched him. Asleep, he looked peaceful but there were some extra lines along his eyes that hadn’t been there before. He leant down and pressed his nose into Crowley’s hair, inhaled deeply and kissed him on the head. He still smelt as wonderful as ever. He ran his left hand gently through the other man’s hair and longed to touch him elsewhere. Everywhere. But that would have to wait. “Darling, you have not been behaving. We will have to have a chat later, when you have slept. I hope, for your sake, that you do not find yourself waking to a nightmare.” Crowley didn’t respond. The anaesthetic still had him fully in its grip. Lucas regarded him and wondered what was true. Aziraphale’s suspicion wasn’t enough to condemn his lover but it wasn’t a good start and Crowley would have to prove where his clearly fractured loyalty truly lay.

Chapter Text

Week 5: Early hours of Sunday Morning

Gabriel sat in one of his comfortable armchairs beside a blazing fire in the living room of his beautiful townhouse in Sanctuary’s most exclusive residential area. He sipped an expensive brandy and stared into the flames trying not to think about how empty the house felt. It had felt empty since Aziraphale left years ago, which was part of the reason he spent so much time in the office or treating flings to nights in the Apex. Lucas berating him for not treating his former husband properly had hit a nerve and he couldn’t deny that here in the solitude of his own home. He knew he’d treated Aziraphale terribly. But he’d felt betrayed by him when he took such exception to the bribes. Deep down Gabriel knew Aziraphale was right and the worst part was that he probably could have achieved the same success without it. Just as Aziraphale had said. He was one of the few people throughout his life who had actually believed in him. He’d been so utterly supportive in the beginning and Gabriel had treated him like he was expendable. Worse, in a way, was that he knew Lucas was right that he wouldn’t change if Aziraphale did come back. He’d be nicer to him. He could do that. Aziraphale wouldn’t have a choice other than to come back and he would try to be better. He needed to look at it more like a business arrangement. He needed Aziraphale for respectability and to be a good host and Aziraphale needed him to treat him better. He could do that. But he wasn’t giving Beez up. The others could go. They were actually expendable.

Thoughts of Beez annoyingly brought his increasingly clingy assistant to mind. He liked Jim but regretted sleeping with him. He should have learned from the fiasco with his previous secretary. That had cost him a lot of money. But she’d eventually pissed off and hadn’t actually sent the tape to the news station. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. He needed to get his shit together or Lucas was going to destroy him as collateral damage if not on purpose. He needed to get some power back in this increasingly stressful relationship. And he was worried about Aziraphale. It was unbelievable that he had actually backed off. Beez and thrown stationary at him when he raised it in her office. She was not happy with the situation with Morningstar and didn’t like Gabriel’s plan of bringing Aziraphale back. If he didn’t know better, he would think she was jealous. She had, however, asked around quietly and no one had seen him in over two weeks. Gabriel had sent Jim to the trailer park and he came back with the same news. Apparently, there hadn’t been so much as a light on in his trailer in days if not weeks.

Gabriel drank and looked at the two large bookcases in the room. He had expected Aziraphale to request the books when they split but just like everything else, he had walked away and asked for nothing. He had tried to scrub his life entirely clean of Gabriel, apart from trying to have him arrested and ruin his career. As if anyone else would be any better here. The anger he had felt at his husband’s betrayal was irritatingly lessening and being replaced with concern. He really had to figure out where he was gone.

He picked up his smartphone and wondered. He opened the app that allowed people to locate their friends but got no response when he looked for Aziraphale’s phone. He repeated it with Beez and found her dot in her apartment nearby. Frowning, he tried Aziraphale again but got nothing. His number still appeared in the list of “friends”, which was surprising but he wasn’t very engaged with technology in some respects so perhaps he had forgotten to block Gabriel. But not appearing meant the phone was away from cellular services or off, and, like everyone else, he didn’t turn his phone off. Could he be out of the country? He didn’t believe that. So either he was somewhere with no cell service or the phone had died.

Where are you Aziraphale? Why have you suddenly started to behave? And why has Crowley been asking the same questions? Crowley, who was Lucas’ ex-lover or, Gabriel though more likely, his lover still, but had slept with Aziraphale and asked not just Gabriel but Greta if they had heard from him. Why? How much trouble was Aziraphale in? How much trouble was Gabriel in?

He sat back frowning at the ceiling. This had all gone bad. And he was sick of being ignored. He flicked back to the text message from Lucas earlier in the evening telling him to stay put and stop annoying him. He was utterly furious at being treated like he wasn’t remotely important in his own city, by a fucking New York blow-in. He looked at the phone and decided. Lucas was going to start providing answers or he could find another place to test his plans. Because the other thing Lucas had right, was that Gabriel didn’t actually need him to win. He wanted to be in on the ground with this plan but he also knew when something was starting to smell. He needed a safety net. And he would go wherever the fuck he pleased in his own damn city.

***

Sunday Late Morning (Day 13 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Aziraphale woke on the mattress feeling much clearer headed and less generally unwell. He was stiff all over and cold. He moved carefully to avoid straining his ribs and sat up. The room was pitch dark and everything was deathly quiet. He rubbed his eyes and wondered how long he had slept. However long it was, it had been a decent sleep. He was still exhausted but he felt more rested than he had in… he didn’t know. However long it had been that he was here. He rested his head against the wall and scratched at his beard, wishing for a razor and wondering vaguely what was going to happen. Whatever it was, he had no control over it.

He tried to remember the last conversations with Lucas but apart from a soul-rending terror, he couldn’t quite bring the details to mind. He shuddered. He understood some of the techniques being used on him but he assumed he had also been drugged again, even if he didn’t know how. That would explain why he had felt so sick and possibly why he was struggling to remember the details of their conversations, particularly the last one. He had been convinced Crowley was here but that must have been a dream. He remembered talking to him. He’d asked him something… something important… he couldn’t remember.

He sighed and wondered if they would feed him soon. He was hungry. Having wanted the light off for so long, he now wished it would turn back on. The room was pitch black. He could barely see the outline of his hand when he held it right in front of his face. He had no idea if the chair had moved or if anything new had been placed in the room so moving around was not a good idea. He had to sit here and wait for Lucas to remember he existed.

“Shut the fuck up! Not a single syllable or I will peal your skin off a strip at a time. Get inside and go upstairs. You fucking moron!”

Aziraphale sat up at the racket in shock. He tweaked his ribs but they didn’t hurt as much as before. He wondered who was getting threatened in such a shockingly graphic manner and what they had done. He hoped desperately that Lucas calmed down before he came back to him. When nothing more happened, he scratched at his beard again and returned to his thoughts.

Lucas was beyond terrifying and his constant hints that he wanted Aziraphale to agree to a more physical interaction were horrifying beyond measure. Aziraphale wondered how long his patience would last. He would take what he wanted in the end. He knew that. Would Crowley really be annoyed if he did? Was anything Crowley said real? A flash of memory, of hands sliding around him, a feeling of warmth and a question, an important question, surfaced but he couldn’t bring it into focus. It was like looking through a dense fog. He gave up and tried to doze while it was quiet and dark. He might not get another chance to rest and memories would return when they were ready. Or not at all. There was nothing he could do either way.

***

Sometime later, Lucas’ man entered the room. He saw his outline through the dim light coming from the open door. “Do you need anything?”

Aziraphale was surprised at being spoken to by anyone other than Lucas and considered. Saying nothing was not a good idea but if he asked for anything it gave them the opportunity to deny it. “I would like some water and enough light to use the bathroom, please.”

The man laughed gruffly. “It’s true what they say. You Brits really are polite. Well, some of you are. Both can be arranged. You will have another meeting with Lucas a little later. He has a surprise for you.” Aziraphale’s stomach flipped. That could be nothing good.

A few minutes later, the light was back on and a new bottle of water was sitting beside him. A small plate of bread had also arrived and he devoured it. He shook slightly at the cold but more at whatever was coming next. Clearer thoughts made it easier to worry; easier to imagine new horrors.

The stocky bald man returned and gestured for him to stand. He did so. He moved behind Aziraphale and tied his arms behind his back again. He also tied a heavy piece of cloth over his eyes. Clearly he was moving to a new location. He took a deep breath and concentrated. Any information on his surroundings might prove useful. The man prodded him to start walking and Aziraphale counted every step and noted every change of direction and variation in the surfaces he walked across. He seemed to move straight out of his little room and then turn right and, he suspected, deeper into the building. The echo of their footsteps indicated a corridor. After 234 steps, his right arm brushed against something wooden, probably a door frame, and the floor changed from floorboards to stone. He had the feeling of space and dampness. He was maneuverered into a familiar chair and secured to it. The blindfold was left in place and he heard the other man leave the room. What fresh Hell is this? What the fuck is going to happen now?  Despite his best attempts, Aziraphale felt himself start to tremble slightly. He knew he couldn’t take much more of this. He wished he knew if he had done well – was it two days or ten? If it was two then he was disappointed in himself. If it was ten, that was a reasonable amount of time to last. With his beard growth is was likely somewhere in between. He knew he’d broken the last time but he didn’t remember what he’d said. He would break faster now. He would try not to but it was inevitable.

His thoughts turned back to Crowley. He desperately wanted to tell him that he hadn’t betrayed him. Is that still true? What did I tell Lucas? He didn’t actually know anything to betray his with. He wondered again what was true. Crowley and Lucas told similar stories but with very different presentations. Was Crowley really scared of Lucas or did he resent the power imbalance in their working lives? Did he want to get away from him or was he furious at being left behind? Did he care for Aziraphale? He thought that he did but Aziraphale didn’t even know what day it was so what he thought meant nothing.

He also wondered about what was really happening here. Lucas was fixated on him and Crowley. That was terrifying but he wasn’t here to torture Aziraphale. He wondered again about the boxes he had seen in the other warehouse.  Lucas had a pile of things that might be laptops and a huge drugs operation that he must be moving to Sanctuary. Why? Sanctuary was nothing. It was only important to the people who lived here and even most of them didn’t care much. Gabriel had huge power in the city and was working for Lucas. What were they doing? Or was Gabriel just facilitating Lucas to test something and then expand? What was in the boxes? He didn’t think they were laptops anymore but what he though was madness.

There was a scraping and sounds that indicated something heavy was being brought into the room that jerked him away from his thoughts. He felt his heartrate increase. What was being brought into the room with him? There was a thump and a groan and then the sounds of several men leaving the room.

Moments later, Lucas’ man returned and spoke. “Lucas will be in shortly. He’s not in a good mood so I’d answer the questions clearly and quickly. It’s not your fault but you will be on the receiving end of his anger if you’re awkward.” Aziraphale nodded, terrified. If this man who had watched him be tortured felt Lucas was in a dangerous enough mood to provide a warning he must already be furious. Or was it a trick to scare him? If it was, it worked.

“Hello Detective. Has Ricky told you about my surprise?”

“No Lucas, just that there is one.”

“Are you excited?”

“No. I’m terrified.”

Lucas laughed. “You’re doing much better, Aziraphale. It’s good that you understand your situation now. I’ll keep letting you sleep if you continue like this.” The voice was at his ear, so much closer than he had expected. He swallowed. Hands moved up his arms gently and settled on his shoulders but Lucas’ fingers reached across the base of his neck. He felt him move his left forefinger to his pulse point and press on it gently. “That’s quite high, Aziraphale. You should breathe and try to control it more. I’ve no intention of calling an ambulance if you have a heart attack.” Aziraphale felt himself shaking more and tried desperately to slow his breathing and heart rate. “Do you want to see what I’ve acquired?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright. I’ll decide for you.” The hands moved up his neck slowly and paused for a moment, exactly where Lucas would squeeze if he wanted to kill him. “Do you like any rough play, Aziraphale? It would be useful to know.” He couldn’t focus. A heart attack seemed increasingly likely and maybe it would be the better outcome. He had thought he’d known fear in his life before but his time with Lucas had re-written the baseline for that and he kept being shown greater heights of terror. “No. No I don’t.”

Lucas’ hands tightened slightly. “Maybe you just haven’t done it right. Let’s put it on the list.”

What fucking list!?

“Oh, I know the last while has been challenging for you and you won’t remember the details of all of our conversations, but I do. You’ve told me quite a lot of what you like, what you enjoy. What you did with Anthony that you took pleasure in. Eventually, we will try some of these things together. When you’re ready, of course, not before.

Oh my god! I cannot… what is happening?

“What do you want from me, Lucas? I don’t have anything of value that you can possibly need.”

“I want everything, Aziraphale. And I will have it.”

He loosened his hands and untied the blindfold. Aziraphale blinked at a brightly lit room and saw only spots. Lucas moved in front of him. He saw him come slowly into focus, a look of mild concern on his beautiful face. “Are you alright? Can you see yet?”

He nodded and blinked rapidly. “Yes, nearly. It’s much brighter here than I have become accustomed to.”

“I know. Take your time. Tell me when you can see properly.” Aziraphale nodded. Several more blinks and he could see Lucas clearly.

“I can see now.”

“Good. Good Aziraphale. Now, let me show you the surprise!” Lucas stood up and allowed him a greater view of what was a much larger basement room. This one was damp with small puddles of water along the edges where the floor met the walls. It was colder too. He looked around and gasped.

Lucas grinned in delight. “Look who I found! The three of us are going to have a wonderful time together.”

Aziraphale’s heart broke again. Crowley was sitting, slumped over and tied to a chair similar to the one Aziraphale was in. His shoulder-length hair hung lank around his face and he was clearly unconscious. “What have you done to him?”

“Do you care? I’ve told you he can’t be trusted. You know he has been less than truthful with you. Why do you care what I’ve done to him?”

“I’d care no matter who it was! You have him passed out tied to a chair. What have you done, you bastard!” Aziraphale hadn’t meant to raise his voice and he wasn’t overly surprised at the slap that rang out in the basement. He was surprised that it wasn’t him who was slapped. Crowley didn’t respond.

“So you do still care. Good to know. You need to keep a civil tongue, Aziraphale. I will now split punishments for any infractions between you both. Don’t worry. He is fine. He was given slightly too much anaesthetic when he was collected and, honestly, I think he’s just tired. He’s been working too hard and worrying too much. When he wakes, all three of us will have a chat. And you can see if you think he’s worth all the trouble he has brought to you. We can, all three of us, discuss that, among other things.”

Lucas grinned. He moved closer to Crowley and caught a handful of hair to move his head towards him. He shook Crowley’s head gently. “He sleeps like a damn rock sometimes. But you probably know that already. I’m a much lighter sleeper. I’d guess he’ll need another few hours. Call for me when he wakes. If you don’t, I will hurt him when I do find out he is awake. Do you understand? No chatting when he wakes. You call me and say nothing else. Yes?”

Aziraphale felt his eyes blur. “Yes, Lucas,” he mumbled.                

“Excellent. There are so many ways for us all to have some fun together. I will enjoy them all, so you should, perhaps, consider which you would rather engage in while I still allow you to choose.” Lucas winked at him and left the basement.

***

Crowley groaned and tried to move but couldn’t. What was wrong? Where was he? He wanted to rub his eyes but he couldn’t bring his arms to his face. They were stuck behind his back. He felt deeply confused. He blinked his eyes and squinted. Wherever he was, was really fucking bright. He groaned again.

“LUCAS!”

“What?” he mumbled. He was upright. That was weird. He shook himself and tried to blink his eyes enough for them to adapt to the brightness.

“LUCAS!”

Who the fuck is shouting? Crowley was suddenly wide awake and his heart was pounding. Someone was shouting for Lucas. FUCK!! He was finally able to see and felt his heart skip a beat. He was tied to a chair and in a basement. Then he remembered Ricky and other men. He’d been collected from the carpark of the Apex. Oh shit… oh shit!

He turned his head slowly. His neck was stiff and he blew out of his mouth to try to move the hair from his face. He felt his stomach sink. Aziraphale was tied to a chair a few feet away from him and was the person calling Lucas. Oh Angel. What has he done to you? I’m so sorry.

Aziraphale looked frantic. He called for Lucas again. He looked thinner than he had the last time they had met and his clothes were rumpled. He also had an untrimmed beard that Crowley’s mind pointed out was quite nice on him. He felt an immediate rush of irritation at himself for this thought. Aziraphale had bruises on his face and likely elsewhere and was favouring his right side. Crowley suspected broken ribs. He made eye contact with Aziraphale but he shook his head frantically, indicating that Crowley should not talk. He nodded trying to calm him. What else could he do?

The door banged against the wall as someone shoved it open and they both flinched. Gabriel, Ricky and several other men entered the room.

“Hello honey,” said Gabriel waspishly. “You’ve been causing trouble apparently. It’s all I can do to keep your stupid ass alive. Don’t fucking make it worse. And you!” He spun around to Crowley. “So much for not fucking the people you work for!”

Crowley took a deep breath and plastered on a sarcastic smile. “I told you there were exceptions, just not you asshole.”

Gabriel’s face reddened and he moved towards Crowley but was stopped by Ricky grabbing him roughly and pulling him back. The mayor turned around in surprise. “If you touch him, Lucas will kill you. Go stand over at your one and leave Crowley alone. No one touches him except the boss.”

Crowley smirked at Gabriel as he retreated to stand beside Aziraphale.

“You look like shit, Aziraphale.”

Crowley was deeply relieved to see a spark of resistance emerge from Aziraphale as he glared at his ex-husband. “Better than being a literal piece of shit, Gabriel.”

Crowley laughed but it died in his throat as he felt the change in atmosphere and a shiver raced down his spine like it was intent on breaking an Olympic record.

“Hello Anthony.” The name was said slowly and softly; like a prayer. Crowley’s throat went dry and his heart thundered in his ears.

“Lucas,” he whispered.

“Oh Darling, you can do better than that.” Lucas moved into his line of sight. He looked just as handsome as ever. He knelt down in front of Crowley and rested his hands on his legs. “You look beautiful. I can’t really believe it’s been three years. I have hated our time apart and it is nearly time for me to explain why it was necessary. I have some questions for you, as I’m sure you have figured out but once we have this all cleared up, you can come home with me.”

Oh fuck, thought Crowley. What the fuck am I going to do? I have to get Aziraphale out of here. How the fuck am I going to get him out?  He tried to grasp hold of his terrified thoughts and focus. You know damn well what you have to do. This was the plan, sort of. Being tied to a fucking chair in the basement was not part of the plan but getting between Lucas and Aziraphale was and he could still do that if he was careful.

Lucas gently pushed Crowley’s legs apart and move himself between his thighs, leaving his hands resting on his knees. He leant in and brushed their lips together. Terror and undeniable attraction soared though Crowley. Lucas pulled back and looked at him sadly. “Kiss me back, Darling or I’ll think you don’t still love me and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley saw Gabriel twist Aziraphale’s head to watch and whisper something in his ear. Crowley swallowed and smiled nervously at Lucas. When the other man brought their lips together again, Crowley kissed him back passionately. He felt Lucas’ hands move up his thighs and rest in the crease of his hips, tantalisingly close to other things that seemed determined to welcome him back after his long absence. And god it felt good, just as good as it had ever been. Lucas pulled back with a soft smile on his face and he rested his forehead on Crowley’s. “I missed you Darling.”

Crowley knew what was required.

“I missed you too, Lucas. Of course I did.” Hands moved up his sides, over his shoulders, across his neck and finally found his hair. The touch was so soft, so gentle and so very familiar.  Crowley groaned softly.

“No one knows you like I do, Darling. No one knows what you like, what you need. That you like it slow, gentle and strong. That you like to be held. To be made to feel wanted, valued. No one can please you like me.”

“N… no one, but come on Lucas, don’t tell the whole room.”

“None of them matter. You know that.”

Lucas curled his right hand in Crowley’s hair and stood, leaning over him slightly. He pulled gently to expose more of Crowley’s neck and with his left hand loosened his tie and opened several shirt buttons. When he had enough space, he bent down and kissed along his collar bone, up his neck and finally to his ear lobe, which he sucked softly for a moment. Crowley gasped and sighed deeply, moving into the familiar touch. “I want you, Anthony. If all these others weren’t here, I’d take you right now or let you have me, whatever you wanted. And I’d do it again and again until neither of us could stand or even think.”

“Oh god, yes! I want you, Lucas! I missed you. I’m sorry.” Fuck. Lucas was a fucking drug to him. Lucas’ left hand trailed down his chest and stopped over his groin. “I’m so glad, Darling, that you’re not lying to me. I’d be so annoyed if you were, but clearly not.” He stood smoothly and looked over at Gabriel and Aziraphale. Crowley felt his face go bright red. He’d forgotten either of them were there. Aziraphale looked defeated and wouldn’t make eye contact. Lucas smiled. “Apologises, but when you haven’t seen your lover in a long time, there is a little care needed to reaffirm the bond. Crowley is mine. Don’t either of you forget it.”

He stepped back a little and looked at Crowley. “I have some questions Darling, and you know that you must answer honestly, yes?”

“Yes Lucas.”

“Did you abide by our arrangement for the last three years?”

“No.”

Lucas nodded. “Explain.”

“I did what you wanted. I went to Chicago and set up on my own. They love me there. Made all the friends you could ever want. You’re in if you want it. I have shit on everyone who might not comply or might arrange resistance. Chicago is yours. I slept around a bit – again, as you had asked me to do – but not all that much. It’s not the same when it’s not you. I waited for you to come back or send someone to get me. For years, Lucas. For three fucking years.” Crowley’s voice picked up heat and he let his very real anger show. “I set up Chicago for you. I fucked other people for you. I waited for you and when we were in the same fucking city, you didn’t come for me! You bastard! You’ve been here since I arrived – or very shortly afterwards – and you didn’t fucking come for me! You promised you would and you didn’t. You broke our agreements first. How could you? So yes. I went back for another round with him because he’s fucking spectacular in bed. And I knew you’d be watching. I knew this would finally get your fucking attention! And it did.”

Aziraphale gasped softly at this revelation and Crowley felt his heart shatter but he couldn’t worry about Aziraphale’s feelings now. It was far too late for that and he was much more concerned about Aziraphale’s life. Survival was more important.

Lucas moved his head in a small circle and looked intensely at Aziraphale and then at Crowley. “What made him so good?”

“He reminded me of you, you bastard.”

Lucas smiled. “I see. You were not meant to know that I was here until I was ready. I always planned to collect you here – of course I did. I arranged for you to be here to sort out that idiots problems.” He jerked his chin in Gabriel’s direction but kept his eyes fixed on Crowley.

Lucas moved closer to Crowley again and reached his right hand out. Crowley expected a slap but instead he was caressed gently. “I’m sorry Darling. I should have known that you would find out I was here. Though I would like to know how that happened. And,” he bent down to kiss Crowley softly, “I accept your explanation.” Crowley relaxed and smiled up at Lucas. “Thank you my love.”

Lucas twisted his lips in a grin and whispered into Crowley’s ear so no one else could hear. “Now for the fun bit, Darling.” He stepped back and looked at Aziraphale.

“Would you like to tell Crowley your suspicion about him? What you told me? Gabriel has wondered too but of course got nothing – he really thought you would leave incriminating evidence in the suite in the Apex, Darling. But I know you better. Aziraphale?”

Crowley’s heart pounded again. What had Aziraphale suspected about him? How much trouble was he really in?

Aziraphale looked wretchedly at Crowley. “I said that I suspected that he is FBI.”

Crowley relaxed. He could work with this.

“You fucking bastard!” squeaked Gabriel.

Lucas spun around and glared at him. “If you speak out of turn once more, I’m going to start breaking bones. Shut the fuck up Gabriel. You shouldn’t even be here. Anthony, Darling, what do you say to this troubling accusation? Are you working for the FBI?”

Survival. Now it was all about survival and minimising what Lucas did to Aziraphale. Maybe he could keep him away from the detective if he was careful. Survive now, apologise later. Crowley smiled his most devilish smile and let his tongue sit just at the tip of his lips. “Course I am. You told me to make friends and I’ve made lots. In all sorts of places.”

***

Aziraphale’s head spun. He had no idea what was happening.  Crowley was smiling at Lucas in a way that made Aziraphale’s spine turn to ice. Was he wrong? He remembered saying he thought Crowley was FBI, but had he told Lucas his real suspicion? Maybe he hadn’t. The last conversation was returning but in disconnected pieces. He couldn’t remember properly.

Lucas smiled back at him. “Do they think you’re an informant now?”

Crowley’s smiled broadened. “Of course not. Lucas, you know I don’t work for free. I’m an agent. I’m on the damn payroll. I have a badge and everything. They wanted me to find you and since I was waiting for you to come back for me anyway, it seemed like a good way to get a line into the FBI and to get some pocket money. Their budget is shit so it’s not like they pay much.”

Lucas’ laugh echoed around the basement and Aziraphale felt like throwing up. He’d been right and wrong all at the same time. Crowley was FBI. But he was Lucas’ mole not theirs. How though? Did he have dual citizenship? Was that even allowed? It didn’t make sense.

“Wonderful Darling, wonderful. What do you know?”

“They think you’re in Mexico but working with people in Florida. Your new drug has them terrified – and I’m surprised about that bit but that’s a conversation for later. I told them you would never be involved with Demon so that sent them looking for financial irregularities that I’ve planted on Gabriel. I em… didn’t know he was important, sorry. They will be raiding his offices on Friday, probably mid to late morning.”

Aziraphale felt Gabriel twitch beside him. He would be furious at this revelation. Crowley had been sent to set him up. Likely, Gabriel was a back-up sacrifice in case things went wrong here. That made sense. Sanctuary wasn’t important. It was a test for a larger plan. He was increasingly sure about that.

“They have nothing on you,” Crowley continued. “They’re idiots. But what I have, is a field agent who can’t keep his mouth shut and tells me everything I want to know. He thinks I’ll sleep with him if he tells me enough. And a handler who thinks I’m an undercover field agent and doesn’t protect her files properly. So – what would you like them to think? Or is there anything you want to know? I can probably find out.”

Aziraphale felt utter despair. He was totally fucked. Crowley was Lucas’ man to his core. And, as Lucas had said, an excellent manipulator. He’d fallen for it all.

“What else, Darling? Aziraphale came across Oversight. Did you know that?”

Crowley nodded. “Yes, but only for a few days. He gave me all of the information he had and everything he suspected. I was surprised to see it there. He doesn’t know what it is. I don’t know how you are connected to it.”

“How do you know what it is?”

“The FBI agent who recruited me also recruited me for Oversight. She said I’d be paid more when I was asked to do something. I got someone jailed in Chicago who they wanted out of the way – nice bonus pay. I also got in at her files so I know some but not everything. I know Oversight is nested in the FBI and I think it has a few people in the CIA and moles elsewhere but I don’t know what they want.”

“Cut him loose,” Lucas barked into the room. Ricky moved forward and, with a flick of a pen knife, Crowley was released and Aziraphale felt his heart utterly break. He had everything backwards. Crowley was never on anyone’s side other than Lucas’. He was his man through and through. He had tried to get Aziraphale to run and he should have. Maybe he had cared at least a little.

“Give me that fucking pen knife Ricky, you never cut these off properly.” The bald man handed the knife over without comment and Crowley cut though the pieces still wrapped around his wrists. He closed the knife over and tossed it back. He stood up, stretching, and looked at Lucas intensely as he massaged his wrists. He curled his lips and walked over to Lucas slowly, swaying his hips hypnotically. He jerked his head up slightly and ran his lower lip through his teeth.

“Lucas, I’m not happy. I feel that the last three years of silence are a personal infraction that will require some level of punishment, when we’re alone of course.” Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open. This was exactly how Lucas had described their relationship and the command oozing of Crowley was… intoxicating. He felt Gabriel bend down to whisper in his ear, “You’re getting hard honey. Not sure they’ll appreciate that.” Aziraphale was more concerned that Lucas would indeed appreciate it but there wasn’t much he could do.

“Are you saying you’re not?” he whispered back.

“I’m standing behind you. They can’t see me.”

Lucas was breathing heavily but hadn’t moved or replied. Crowley’s smile grew. He placed his left hand on Lucas’ waist and pulled him towards him roughly, resting their foreheads together. It was the photograph come to life and even more erotic in person than in print.

“You’re going to have to beg again, lover. And for much longer this time. But not straight away. I’m going to fuck you into next week first because I don’t deserve to have to wait.” Fuck – it’s all true! Crowley is as much of a psycho as Lucas!

Lucas groaned and moved into Crowley but didn’t try to kiss him. Without warning, Crowley moved his hands to Lucas’ shoulders and pushed him back several steps until he made contact with the wall. He shoved his right leg in between Lucas’ legs separating them and ground into him. Lucas cried out and Crowley caught the cry with his mouth. He kissed him passionately and pressed into his groin. Bloody Hell! Aziraphale knew his eyes were bulging at the display.

Gabriel whispered in his ear again. “Do you really think he’d swap that for you? Ever?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, but unlike you, at least I got to try him.” His heart shattered. Nothing had been real and he was an utter fool. And likely a soon-to-be-dead one.

“You know, honey, if I’d known you like to watch, we could have had a lot more fun together.”

“I don’t see how I’d enjoy watching you disappoint another lover.”

Gabriel hissed in response. “You should be nicer to me. I’m the only thing keeping you alive, you little shit.”

Crowley and Lucas separated and Crowley took his hand. “I assume there’s a bedroom, bathroom, an office or something here. I can’t wait.” He pulled him for a moment but Lucas seemed to refocus and remember where they were. “Darling, calm down. Everything you want, you know that, everything but not right now. I still have to deal with him.”

Crowley growled in frustration. “Later. This is business.” Crowley backed off immediately but looked at Lucas longingly. “I can’t focus now. I need to sort this out. Where is the bathroom? I’ll be ten minutes. Unless you want to come and help.” Lucas smiled. “Upstairs, second door on the right.” Crowley grunted and left to deal with what looked like an excruciating erection. Aziraphale shook his head in horror at the entire situation. Lucas watched him go until he was out of sight. They’re like two horny teenagers. If horny teenagers were also terrifying leaders of the underworld. And I could not have gotten this more wrong. It really will be Gabriel or death and that’s if I’m lucky.

***

Crowley swanned out of the room making sure that Lucas was watching him. He knew he was. He tried desperately not to think about Aziraphale also watching and what he had just heard and seen. Once he was out of sight, he moved quickly and found the bathroom. He looked around to make sure no one had followed him but his heavily implied intentions made privacy almost guaranteed. He went into the bathroom and slid to the floor just in time to empty his stomach. 

He shook and vomited and tried desperately to think. He had vaguely hoped that he might still have one of his phones but a quick search of his pockets revealed that they were gone. Lucas was no fool. He had no way to contact anyone outside of the warehouse and no one who would notice he was missing, not until Wednesday and that was days away. He rested his head against the cold wall of the bathroom and wondered if there was any way at all that he could get Lucas to let Aziraphale go. He knew what was coming next for him and now, finally, as it was presented to him, he was sure he didn’t want it. He was still attracted to Lucas, he wasn’t stupid enough to deny that, but he did not want to go back to him. How much of a choice he would have depended on how things progressed. But he was sure now. He couldn’t ever go back to Lucas. Not for anything. Well, unfortunately, maybe he could for one thing. If that was the only way. But if Lucas figured out how he felt about Aziraphale, he would kill them both. He had to be careful and Lucas could not suspect that he no longer loved him. That would be more dangerous than if he found out he was a spy.

***

Aziraphale watched Lucas watch Crowley leave and wondered again how long he had left to live. For a moment, he thought Lucas looked at Crowley with genuine rage but it passed so quickly he must have imagined it. Gabriel was standing beside him in sullen silence. The fiction of any partnership between Gabriel and Lucas was now fully destroyed even for the mayor. Lucas sighed deeply and returned his attention to Aziraphale.

“Tell me now, Detective. Do you trust Anthony?”

Aziraphale barked a laugh. “Oh yes. I understand now. He’s an entirely trustworthy spy. Your man from the beginning.”

“And my offers?”

“Go to Hell.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Really? We’ll see about that.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I will not help you in any way and the last few minutes have been very useful in clearing my mind. You and Crowley deserve each other. I do hope that you are still as good in bed as you were. I suspect Crowley has been keeping in practise quite a lot more than you. If you’re not still up to scratch we all know he’ll be fucking you and thinking about me.”  Gabriel gasped beside him but Aziraphale didn’t care anymore. There was no way he was getting out of this alive and he wasn’t going to beg for something that would never be granted.

Lucas moved towards him and punched him in the ribs that had barely started to heal. He cried out in agony. Gabriel looked at him in irritated concern and clearly wanted to say something but was not brave enough to follow though. Typical.

“Gabriel, do you honestly think you can control him? Because I’m not sure that I can.”

Gabriel licked his lips nervously. “I can. He can be reasonable. It just takes a while.”

“I’m keeping him here until we are fully set up. Then I’ll make a decision.” Lucas knelt down to make level eye contact with Aziraphale. “Your choices are Gabriel or an overdose. And given how you react to Demon, it will be a painful fucking death. But it’s up to you. Depending on what Anthony requests, other options may remain on the table. I still like the beard.” He stood and slapped Aziraphale across the face. “Ricky, you or one of the others stay here. Gabriel may talk to his angelic dumpling for a few minutes but he is not to touch him.” Ricky nodded as Lucas turned to leave.

“Oh and Gabriel. You will be my guest here for the next while. But you know that already, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Ricky – take care of Gabriel’s phone for him, please. We don’t need any distractions while we’re finishing things up here.”

Before Lucas could leave the room, Aziraphale saw Crowley return. Lucas brushed his arm and the other man shuddered slightly and smiled. “We need to talk, Darling.” They both left.

***

Chapter Text

Crowley stood in a pleasantly furnished room that clearly doubled as a bedroom and small study. It felt odd given what he had seen of the rest of the building. He glanced around feeling a bizarre mix of terror and awkwardness. “Em… sorry about that. Inappropriate. But you… it’s been… well three years.” He shuffled as he spoke, not sure where to look.

Even more strangely, Lucas stood nearby also clearly uncomfortable. “Don’t worry about it. I started it. And as much as I’d prefer to spend our time making up properly, I think I need to explain or you will only grow increasingly angry at me as you find things out piecemeal on your own. Drink?”

Crowley’s brain lost control of his mouth while he wasn’t watching and said, “Yes please. What are you going to do with Archer and Fell?”

Lucas’ back stiffened as he poured two glasses of red wine. “Does it matter to you?”

Idiot! “Gabriel, not at all. Fell, honestly, yes a little. He is extremely clever and he doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this.”

“You like him.”

“I do. But not as much as you, so don’t worry.” He softened his tone and smiled as he said the last bit. Lucas turned around and regarded him keenly though his intelligent and slightly angry eyes. “All this time, and it’s now, when I have come to get you back, that you have a soft spot for someone else. It’s almost predictable, Anthony. I’d nearly think you are doing it just to annoy me.”

Crowley smiled softly. “Maybe a little. You deserve it.”

Lucas huffed and handed him one of the glasses. He gestured to two worn but reasonable looking armchairs. Crowley wrinkled his nose but moved towards one of them. “This is not what I’m used to Lucas, nor what I like.”

Lucas smirked. “Don’t I know it? You were never cheap, Darling. This is temporary. Another few days and if we need to stay in Sanctuary, I’ll join you in the Apex. I will probably need another week or maybe two here.”

Crowley groaned. “Seriously? The only think I was looking forward to here was leaving. Please, please don’t tell me that you intend to have a permanent presence here?”

“Yes, but not me or you. I need to go to Chicago, obviously – we’ll get back to that – and then – would you like to go home? Back to New York?”

Crowley felt his eyes light up. Yes. “Yes.” If I have to stay in the States, if I have to stay with you, oh please let it be in New York.

Lucas smiled at him and sipped his wine. “Good. It won’t be too long. Perhaps we’ll go back to New York before Chicago, even just for a few days.”

Crowley nodded. “That would be lovely, Lucas. Do you still have the penthouse?”

“Of course, Darling. I’d never relinquish our home. The hotel has carried on as it was and the bar and clubs reopened once the FBI dropped their investigation into me. It is just as we left it. No one else has been in our apartment except from when Ben lets the cleaners in. It will be ready when we go back.”

For a moment the possibility of going back to New York with Lucas, returning to a life he understood and enjoyed, swam in front of his eyes. He could do it. He still didn’t have everything. It would even be justifiable to the Witch. He could. But that would condemn Aziraphale, if he wasn’t already condemned. Unless he could bargain it somehow? If there wasn’t another way…

“Have you considered paying him off and letting him leave?”

“Who?”

“A… Fell. He’s broke. Gabriel financially destroyed him and he is stuck here because he’s trying to protect people and can’t afford to leave. Pay him off and promise not to hurt the people in the trailer parks. He’ll leave. I think he’s just about sick and tired enough of this place to actually go.”

Lucas’ eyes narrowed. “I don’t like that you are thinking about him while we’re talking about going home.”

Crowley sighed. “I’m thinking about lose ends so that we can go home. We won’t be able to if you leave a trail of bodies here. And you cannot kill a cop and expect no repercussions. Even here. You are getting stuck on the personal stuff, like you always do.” There was no harm in at least seeing if he could make this work.

Lucas looked at him and was utterly unreadable. “I have a plan, Darling. Forget about him for now.”

Crowley shrugged and took a sip of wine, trying to imply that he really couldn’t care less but was deeply concerned by Lucas’ answer. “Fine. You said you wanted to explain why you abandoned me. So explain.” His voice was harsh and clipped and Lucas looked surprised at the sudden change.

“You’re not going to like a lot of it.”

“I had already guessed that. I love you Lucas but I have my limits and you don’t have anything other than my love to keep me here, remember that.” These conversations had always unnerved Crowley, the ones that sat directly on the border of personal and professional. He never knew where the actual line was until he’d crossed it.

“Humm…” said Lucas, looking at him over the rim of the wine glass. “I assume that will be all I need, Darling.” He sipped and licked a bead of wine from his lower lip as he starred at the ceiling. “There is more than I can say swiftly here tonight but there are important things to discuss. I think, if you do me the courtesy of listening until the end, that you will agree with me. You will be angry, but please don’t leave until I tell you that I have given you what I can tonight. Do you agree?”

Reasonable Lucas terrified Crowley almost as much as furious Lucas. The two were separated by a hair. He sighed and took a deep drink of the wine. Was a night with lover Lucas really so much to ask for? Don’t think that! Idiot! You’re already planning your fucking return to New York with him and he’s barely touched you. You cannot do that. Get a fucking hold of yourself! Aziraphale is tied to a chair in a basement and you’re being a fucking prick. “Alright. This should be good. Tell me – what was so very important, so very dangerous and so very immediate that you left me without even an occasional message and without explanation for three years?”

“Ha, yeah. Ok. You’re not going to make this easy. Fine. I understand.” To Crowley’s surprise Lucas still looked uncomfortable. Whatever the answer was, it wasn’t going to be good enough and he knew that. Crowley starred at him without speaking.

“Before I really begin, I want an answer to one very specific question.”

Crowley felt himself start to panic but the question blindsided him entirely.

“Why is Marcus serving a minimum of 30 years in prison?”

Crowley paused and considered how to approach this. He decided on the truth. Give or take. “Child abuse. It was widely reported.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Crowley sighed. “Because when you fucked off you took your protection with you. For both him and me. I moved faster. I sent the evidence I had against him to the FBI – which helped get their attention, by the way – and they used that to search his home and offices. They found… god Lucas, the things they found. He caused trouble between us and you didn’t see it. He needed to go. If I had left him loose, he would have moved against me or become stronger in New York and I wasn’t having that. I’m not remotely sorry.”

Lucas nodded and drank again. “Ruthless, Darling. And highly efficient. It almost seems that you were just waiting for a chance to remove him.”

Crowley twisted his lips. “He was going one way or the other, Lucas. You had what you needed from him.”

Lucas grinned. “I like your ruthless side, Darling. It is a rare treat outside of a courtroom. Fine. You’re right. I don’t care at all and he was vile. He asked me for help when he was arrested. Well he asked Ben. He didn’t get any response. Right. Fine. Let’s move on.”

Crowley relaxed. That was too close to a very dangerous topic.

“What do you know about Oversight?”

“You’re supposed to be doing the talking, Lucas.” Lucas’ nostrils flared slightly and he raised an eyebrow.

“Fine! Fuck’s sake. It’s some sort of unofficial intelligence agency. I know it’s embedded in the FBI because that’s how I learned about them – through my FBI handler, she’s one of them – and I think but can’t prove that it has people in the CIA. They are not legal and I don’t think that they work for anyone in the US government as such but they seem focused on US interests or they were focused on them for a long time. That doesn’t seem to be explicitly the case anymore. I’ve looked into it a bit out of curiosity and to see if I could get anything on my handler in case I ever needed it. They have money – lots and lots of money – which makes me think that they are probably funded by either organised crime or some asshole billionaires. They seem to have no concern for borders and do what they like. They’re well informed, obviously, but I have no idea what they actually want.”

Lucas nodded and smiled. “Good. That’s quite a lot more than they would want you to know. Who is your FBI handler that is also Oversight?”

“Angela Michael.”

Lucas pursed his lips and looked furious. “Oh of course. She can’t ever quite keep things to herself. What do you have on her?”

“Not a lot. She had me set up one of the low grade mobsters in Chicago, which was fine and easy but there isn’t enough there to cause much trouble. I was going to do it anyway. He had lied about an assault so it was a “two birds” situation for me. I got a nice bonus out of it. I know she was in the Alps near where a private plane…” Crowley stopped and looked suspiciously at Lucas. Archangel. The other man smiled. “Start talking Lucas.”

“Well done Darling. You’re so very clever. I have adored that since the night we met. You are quite right about Oversight. It is within government organisations, particularly the FBI and more recently a little in the CIA, but it is most certainly not part of the government. It is run by a few well-connected individuals. Or rather I should say it was. There has been a reorganisation in the upper levels and it is now controlled by one man, who goes, rather pompously by Archangel. There is currently a little elbowing of the second tier but that will be resolved soon. Michael is involved there.”

Shit, thought Crowley. “You are Oversight too, aren’t you?” And I thought they were bloody after him just like the FBI – for bloody years.

Lucas smiled again. “Oh yes, Darling. Oversight is why I had to run; why I, as you have been so kindly putting it, abandoned you; and why I’m now in a position to return to the US, reclaim you and reassert myself. I think you have the pieces now because if you know about the Alps and you know about me, surely you can guess who Archangel is?”

FUCK!!! “Lucas – no! You cannot be serous?” Not Lucas… how had this been missed…

“Show your work, Darling.”

Crowley glared at him. “You are fucking kidding me? You’re fucking father? And you’re working for him?” Crowley stood up, furious, and started to pace up and down the small room. “You’re fucking father! Why do you always let him pull you back in? Why?!” And then realisation really hit. “Oh you absolute prick! This is where the fucking drug is coming from!” He spun around and glared at Lucas, eyes burning in anger. “You fucking hypocrite! After everything you said! After what you fucking did in the basement! Fuck. I’m gone Lucas.” He slammed the glass down, entirely forgetting that this was information he needed, information he had been trying to get for over ten years, and turned to leave. Aziraphale. I can’t leave him alone. Not here. Not now. His hand was on the door.

“You promised Anthony! You promised to hear me out.”

He paused, his heart racing. Everything in his life suddenly clashed together – his lovers, his love, and his work. He couldn’t serve them all and survive. Everything needed him to stay but he wanted to run. He wanted to run more than anything else… more than almost anything. Fuck you Angel. He took his hand off the door handle and turned around. His head pounded and his heart raced. He pursed his lips together to try to control his reactions. Lucas was still sitting in his chair, sure that he would be obeyed.

Crowley stomped back to collect his glass and refilled it. He drank deeply and then topped it up again. “I’m not happy Lucas and right now, I’m leaving.”

He turned to glare at Lucas and couldn’t stop himself. “He fucking destroyed your mother and you have gone back to him? How could you Lucas? What the fuck are you thinking?

Lucas didn’t shift his position but his eyes suddenly blazed. Crowley shrank back from him but continued to stare defiantly.

“He did worse than that, Darling.  And I have plans for my dear father. Sit back down. Now.”

Crowley moved back to the chair and slumped in it, draping one leg over a cushioned arm.

Lucas looked like he was physically restraining himself from saying or doing something. Crowley knew he was pushing his luck but this was beyond belief. Lucas took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.  

“Your petulant attitude is trying my patience, Darling and this all gets worse, I’m afraid.”

Crowley grunted.

Lucas opened his eyes and continued.

“You know that I had a fairly severe argument with dad that time I came home early. The night I found you high at home and everything that led to our disagreement on that occasion. You really couldn’t have picked a worse time to do that. He had presented that visit as an olive branch, an attempt to rebuild a family connection. I went for the sake of my sisters. Of course, he was lying and what he really wanted was for me to agree to work for him. His offer centred on a drug he was manufacturing and trailing quietly. Academically, he was billing it as a means of treating depression. Unofficially, he wanted to use it to control people – either through its ability to encourage compliance – almost a truth serum – or in others, simply though intense addiction. And it is very, very addictive. The official line – that it could help people struggling with depression – sickens me. It doesn’t work, obviously, but it makes people so addicted that they focus only on the drug and he reports that as a success. It’s…” Lucas looked away and swallowed. “It’s what he gave my mother.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped and he sat up properly in the chair. This was fucking horrible. There really was nothing Enoch wouldn’t do. He felt the urge to go to Lucas, to comfort him but he restrained himself. He needed him to keep talking.

“He trailed a predecessor mixture on her. It is what she became addicted to and what killed her. And he did it while I was away at university and couldn’t see what was happening. He has been refining it since. This drug, it has extremely volatile properties and is incredibly dangerous. Anyway, I refused, of course and we had a huge argument. He threatened me and you and told me that I would fall in line or lose everything. I told him to fuck off and left. You know how I feel about drugs.

“Obviously, he did not take my refusal well. He simmered on it for years. At the same time, he had taken full control of Oversight for maybe two years. Archangel is a title not a person. It’s pure chance that it fits with my pattern of names, in case you are wondering. A coincidence and nothing more. The title existed before my father was part of Oversight. Anyway, he had finally pushed the previous Archangel out and taken over. The organisation was started by a small group of wealthy business people and some people high up in the government and FBI. Michael has been there since the beginning. My father was brought in about… hummm… I think maybe 12 years ago? It’s been around longer.”

Right. Around when it started to be a real problem and when Madam started trying to figure out what was going on. And that explains the password on Michael’s files. The job she clearly wants.

“Anyway, Oversight’s overall argument was that they had all this knowledge and ability but that it wasn’t always being used as efficiently as it could be and that the nation’s interests were not always being put forward the way they should be. Or the way these people thought it should at any rate. A lot of it…“ Lucas paused and looked at the ceiling. “Well in a certain light, they had a bit of a point and some of them may have meant well. I think they did in the beginning. There was something at one point where a mission to get some terrorist was called off because it impinged on British interests somehow. These people, the original founding council, were furious. So, Oversight was born with the aim of always putting the national interest first, no matter which allies it crossed.

“That didn’t last long because people are people and soon it became about personal interests and quite a few of them saw the potential that it offered in terms of money and power. That was when dad was brought in and where he was able to shine. None of the others knew about his underworld connections. I think they’d have been horrified. He was able to have a couple of the key players assassinated – the usual from him is a car accident or similar and he recruited some key lieutenants. Michael helped him push out the more reasonable people and is one now of his “loyal” lieutenants. She is responsible for a series of accidents on at least two continents over the last few years. She’s ruthless but not as clever as she thinks. He wanted me to be another but I walked out. Over the next few years, he solidified his already iron grip on Oversight. Now they work for him.  He knows everything that happens in both the FBI and a lot of what the CIA know. He uses Oversight to damage the interests of competitors, to facilitate deals for his cronies all over the world and to threaten people where needed. I hate him, but it’s impressive.

“I didn’t know all of this until more recently but I knew he would move against me. That night on the balcony, I thought I had things sorted. I had sent someone to kill him. It should have been simple. A bullet to the head. Nothing fancy. Only a very few people knew but one of them was his fucking mole. My man was taken and tortured to death. As far as I was aware at the time, he had died in a crash. I should have known. Six months later dad called me to say he had planted evidence that I was developing Demon in my own fucking building in New York. He had smuggled papers, plans, samples – more than enough to incriminate me. He gave me slightly too much time though and I was able to fix everything so that it appeared to be the action of his mole rather than me. I set his mole up, packed and told you to run.

That bastard. God I fucking hate him. This made a sort of sense though. Enoch was vengeful and cruel and if Lucas had defied him as he said, retribution was a given. Enoch never got his hands dirty and to say he ran anything in the LA underworld was not exactly right. But he made things happen and if he was now running Oversight… the thought was utterly horrifying. He was also almost above reproach in respectable circles. He used his status as an eminent professor working across the chemistry and medical boundary to travel anywhere and was essentially above suspicion. As far as Crowley knew, he had acted as an advisor to various Californian governors and at least two presidents. And somehow, no one really questioned the money. But if Enoch was Archangel… what was he after that he didn’t already have? It didn’t make sense. And he absolutely had to get this to the Witch. Enoch had never been mentioned in all the years he had been trying to infiltrate Oversight. He wasn’t on her radar.

“It’s ok, Lucas. You did the right thing. I wish you’d told me. I could have helped.” It did make sense. That doesn’t matter. His mind was racing trying to keep up.

“That is why I had to run. He would have destroyed everything I had built in New York but running protected my interests – our interests Anthony. You had us well protected legally and financially so the FBI never found any of the money other than the tax irregularities you left for them to find. I paid up and they dropped everything else. My dad’s guy was done for a litany of drug-related crimes, bribes, and financial issues and suffered for it because you were gone and there was no one to defend him. He’s still in prison. They interviewed me of course but I had everything clean from my end before I left. They got nothing on me. Our operation has continued under Ben’s watchful eye and nothing much has changed.”

“Oh. Fine. That explains that but if you had to run, fine. Your father is a bastard and although he’d never get the money he could have done a lot of damage if he chose to or we’d have ended up in all- out war with his people, which would have been problematic. And bad for business. Why did you not take me with you? Why did you fucking leave me, Lucas?”

He was worried at how angry he was and surprised that Lucas actually squirmed and looked almost embarrassed.

“Because he told me to.”

“WHAT!?” thundered Crowley, pushing himself to the edge of his seat. “You fucking left me because your asshole father told you to!” His heart was pounding now and he was filled with a genuine rage. How could Lucas have done this to him?

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Yes and no. Calm down. Making me leave you was part of his revenge for my refusal to join him. He told me that if I didn’t finish my relationship with you, he would kill you. That is why I insisted on you going to Chicago – where neither he nor I had any real power and you could protect yourself by making friends – and on presenting the illusion that we had fully parted.” Lucas’ voice increased in pitch. “That’s why! Anthony. I did it to keep you safe. Do you understand that? He had gotten so powerful there was no other way I could protect you. It was Chicago or England and I wanted you closer so that there was some hope of getting you back. Do you get that?!” He looked down. “I’m sorry.”

Crowley was furious but this did all make sense. If Enoch had both his gangsters and Oversight at his disposal it was actually shocking that he was still alive. He glared at Lucas. “I never would have thought you could be bullied Lucas. I’m disappointed.”

Lucas surged to his feet and slapped Crowley fully across the face. He recoiled in shock. Lucas had never hit him outside of a basement. He blinked and didn’t know what to say.

Lucas stood looking at him appearing equally shocked. “I’m sorry. Anthony everything I have done in the last three years has been to keep you alive. I know that I have hurt you and I wanted to tell you but this idiotic reaction is exactly what I expected and you would never have agreed to stay away. You would be dead if I hadn’t made him think we were done. Do you not understand that?”

Crowley rubbed his face and nodded. “I’m sorry Lucas.” He stood up and pulled Lucas into his arms. The other man rested his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. Yes, I understand. You’re right. I would have fought you tooth and nail. I would never have agreed if you had given me a choice.” Lucas stayed in his arms for a moment and then pushed back. He ran his hand gently over Crowley’s face where he had just slapped him. “I’m sorry Darling.” Crowley smiled. “It’s fine.”

Lucas pushed himself away and started to pace up and down the little room and continued. “Dad… hated you. You know that. But it was more than that. He never trusted you. Ever.”

Crowley looked at him in confusion, still feeling the sting of the slap. “What was there to trust? I don’t understand. Did he think I’d cheat on you?”

Lucas laughed bitterly. “No. That would not have bothered him. He doesn’t understand a monogamous relationship since he’s never had one. Prick. No. My father had a lot of thoughts about you. He thought that your arrival – a beautiful, intelligent foreigner with an unclear and shockingly quiet past – just as he was making his plans and starting to become a major player in Oversight was too much of a coincidence. You know dad – it’s all about him. Anyway, he decided that you were MI6 or something and tried very hard, as you know, to get me to cut ties with you not long after we met.”

Crowley tried to look offended rather than terrified. He felt his heart trying to burst out of his chest. “But you didn’t. Why not if I’m a fucking British spy?”

Lucas laughed. “Maybe I have a Bond kink?”

“Very fucking funny, Lucas.”

Lucas shook his head and smiled. “He had you checked out and satisfied even himself that you’re not.”

Crowley sat back down and extended his body across the chair and smirked at Lucas. “How can you possibly be sure? I’m certainly able to seduce you whenever I choose, which is what your father, I assume, was afraid of. But you had to prove that you’d chose shit family over loyal partner. I’m really feeling the love, here.”

Lucas’ eyes raked over him and he unconsciously licked his lips. “Yes, that was what he thought. And certainly part of it was right you can have me anytime you want.”

“It wouldn’t even make sense though. You had nothing to do with Oversight at the time.”

Lucas shrugged. “He was being a prick at the time and I was having a lot of trouble with the FBI. If you remember, before you started to work for me, I had huge legal problems that kept appearing, seemingly out of nowhere. It was dad directing the FBI to look into everything even geographically close to any of my interests. And that was coming though Oversight. I think he thought that this interest in me, from Oversight, might be attracting attention from people who wanted to curtail Oversights activities. And that getting in with me might provide a route to them.  He thought you were trying to get into Oversight though me maybe as a spy for them. Then you got rid of all the problems and he couldn’t create any more. So he hated that you weren’t a spy and hated that you stopped his nonsense. You out maneuvered him before you even met him. He absolutely hates you Darling.”

Crowley took a deep breath. This was far too close to the truth. Was Lucas playing with him? Did he already know? But Crowley hadn’t known there was any connection between Lucas and Oversight, never mind that he bloody father was running it. He wondered briefly if he had been told everything but he didn’t have time to linger on the thought.

“That sounds really complicated Lucas. If I was a spy, wouldn’t I just go work for him?”

Lucas smiled. “Maybe. Anyway, he looked into you and couldn’t find anything incriminating.  Oversight has a mole in MI6, we’re not limited to the US and haven’t been for a very long time.”

Crowley tingled. He was so close now. But close to the truth or close to Lucas killing him? “How the fuck is that even possible? There is no way even a friendly country could get a spy so high up that you can be confident that you know – what? Know all the secret agents around the world. That’s ridiculous, Lucas.”

Lucas smiled softly. “I think you’d make an excellent secret agent, Darling. You’re beautiful, you can talk to anyone, smooth as silk in several ways. You’re only problem is that you refuse to even touch a gun. That ruins it a bit. Honestly, at first I was a little surprised when we were told they had absolutely nothing on you at all. The only record of note was a speeding ticket near Oxford – because you have never changed in that regard apparently – and a police check for working abroad one summer when you were a student. That’s it. Nothing else. You are squeaky clean, as you have always told everyone.”

“Yeah. I know I am. But I don’t understand how you can possibly have someone who can check that for you. Someone that actually satisfied your father. How was he so absolutely sure that your new sexy English boyfriend wasn’t a spy?”

Lucas curled his lips. “What is the one good thing about Gabriel?”

“What?” Crowley sat up confused. “What’s this got to do with him? Nothing. He’s a moron.”

“He is. But he has one important trait that helps him function well here. What one thing does he do well?”

Crowley wracked his brain and tried to push his intense dislike of Gabriel to the side. He’d been through so much of the shit that Gabriel had done and messed up it was hard to think of anything that wasn’t stupid or arrogant. Particularly in the last two years. And how he treated Aziraphale was dreadful. He treated everyone who wasn’t cowing down to him or funding him like shit. Almost everyone…

“He’s nice to his secretary.”

Lucas beamed at him. “Bingo. And the head – the fucking head – of MI6 is not. It’s brilliant. I have no idea how Shadwell was ever promoted to run MI6 but he is awful to work for, apparently, and he has made his secretary’s life miserable. She was easy to recruit. We know everything they are doing that we want. We even know most of their field operatives, which has been handy. I had to get rid of one in Mexico a few months ago when they were getting too close to our operation down there and all it took was a phone call to arrange getting the identity and hotel where she was staying! It’s hilarious.”

Crowley’s head spun. Fuck! FUCK…. Ten years and I have it all and no way to tell anyone… “Ha. Well that’s impressive. And the secretary gave me a clean bill of health then? I should send her chocolates.” What the fuck am I going to do?

“She prefers flowers,” Lucas grinned. “Anyway, once he was sure that you were clean, he turned to trying to convince me that you wanted me for my money.”

Fuck, FUCK, FUUUUCK!!!! What am I going to do? I have got to get out of here. I have to get this to the Witch. Shadwell’s fucking secretary! Everything is compromised. Madam is in the same fucking room as her several times a week. Anathema… she must know who she is.  FUCK!  His heart was racing and he knew he was breathing too fast.

“I do. Otherwise I might have to spend my own. He’s such a prick Lucas.” He had to get out of here somehow, get a message to the Witch. Or the kid, Pepper. Anyone. Enoch was Archangel and Shadwell’s secretary, in place for 20 years, was the fucking mole. This could not get any worse. His thoughts spiralled as he tried to maintain an outward calm

He took a deep breath and hoped that Lucas assumed he was just angry at Enoch. “So he was angry at you for refusing to work with him – I assume he wanted your influence on the East Coast – but after he forced you to dump me and run away you clearly eventually agreed or you wouldn’t be here with warehouses filled with equipment to start pumping out Demon. What happened? Why did you agree to work for him?”

Lucas ground his teeth and Crowley worried that he had overstepped again.  He raised an eyebrow.

“He turned up in Mexico six weeks after I left New York. He showed me photographs of you kissing a cute guy in a bar and said he was glad to see we were done. You were followed for at least a year. I think you found the bugs and assumed it was Dagon or someone but it was him.”

Crowley nodded. He had assumed it was Dagon. He’d thrown the last of the bugs across a boardroom at them and threatened to never work for them again. They’d insisted it was someone else and Crowley had been given security to help keep the problem at bay. It had worked. Now he knew why. “I didn’t know it was him. It never entered my head.” He remembered the guy too. He’d been attractive and mind-numbingly boring. He’d started going to rougher bars after that in an attempt to at least be entertained and not bored out of his mind by pretty gold-diggers.

“He outlined his plan and asked me to be one of his lieutenants in Oversight. I agreed. He thought he had finally worn me down and I let him keep that illusion. His plan is ridiculous. Mine is not.”

Crowley rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Lucas, can we take a break? Get some fresh air or something? This is a Hell of a lot to unload on me in one go and I suspect you’re not even half-way done yet.” He rubbed his head and wondered if there was any chance he would be left unobserved. But he had no phone and couldn’t leave while Aziraphale was still in the basement.

Lucas smiled softly. “Of course, Darling. I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. Let’s go outside. If it’s clear, the stars are wonderful here. I don’t allow street lights at present so it is properly dark at night” Lucas stood and offered Crowley his hand. He took it and stood too.

“Are you going to give me my phones back, love?”

“Surely you don’t need them right now. Who do you need to call?”

“MI6,” said Crowley grumpily.

Lucas laughed and opened the door. “They can wait. And you can have them back when I’ve finished checking them. I haven’t found anything upsetting yet so I’m sure you’ll get them back soon.”

Fucking great. He’s coming with me and stripping my phones down. He was clearly not going to be left alone for the time being. And Lucas would tear his phones apart. He didn’t think there was anything problematic on them – not since Lucas now knew about the FBI and Michael – but Lucas was an expert programmer so if Crowley had missed anything, he would find it. They walked through the building and outside together. Crowley tried desperately not to panic.

***

Aziraphale watched Lucas and Crowley leave and winced against the fresh agony in his ribs. Something different hurt this time. He had pains in his chest and his breath was coming in shorter gasps than it should.

“Why the fuck did you have to antagonise him, Aziraphale? He’s going to kill you if you don’t fucking stop.”

Oh fantastic. I forgot you were still here. Literally the only thing that could make this worse is being trapped in here with you.

“What are you doing here Gabriel? I have nothing to say to you.”

Gabriel moved towards the now vacant chair and put his hand on its back, clearly planning on moving it closer to sit down himself.

“I wouldn’t sit in that chair,” said Ricky quietly.

Gabriel turned to stare at him dismissively. “And why not?”

Ricky stepped closer. “Because if you sit in it, you might not get up again.” Gabriel growled and hurled the chair across the room. Ricky didn’t respond but walked calmly away to get it. Gabriel moved rapidly to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear. “I’m going to try to get you out. Don’t fuck it up.”

“What?”

He pushed back and in a louder voice said, “Just come home, Aziraphale. Please. You can’t honestly prefer being beaten to a pulp and killed to coming back and standing beside me? I’m a better option than that. I can help you if you let me.”

Aziraphale looked at him in confusion as Ricky put the chair back where it had been before Gabriel had thrown it across the room.

“That won’t happen Gabriel. You must see that. I’m not here because of the trouble I caused you. I’m here because I slept with Crowley. Apparently, twice is a problem for Lucas. He is never going to let you take me home.”

Gabriel paced up and down for a moment. “He will if you agree to behave. If you say that you’ll do what you’re told. He needs me.”

“I’m not sure he does, Gabriel. I think you may be more expendable than me. And he’s definitely going to kill me. You might want a backup plan. Though it’s probably too late for that anyway.”

Gabriel seemed for a moment to consider this but shook his head. “No, he’s put too much money into Sanctuary and into me to blow it on a whim. He said he wants something from you. Just give him what he wants, promise to behave and come home. That can happen. For once, Aziraphale, accept my damn help. No one else is offering.”

Aziraphale looked at him incredulously. He wondered if he should tell Gabriel what it was Lucas wanted from him but before he could decide Ricky ended their chat.

“Archer, that’s enough. There is a room for you. Go and use it. One of the boys outside will show you where. And give me your phone.”  Ricky held out his hand and stared at Gabriel until the phone was surrendered. This has gone totally out of his control, thought Aziraphale, almost feeling sorry for Gabriel. He wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. That was part of the reason he had struggled so much with the divorce.

Gabriel cast a surprisingly regretful look at Aziraphale and left. Ricky closed the door and did not turn the light off. Aziraphale wanted to cry. Clearly he had lost the privilege of sleep.

***

Lucas looked at Anthony and tried to figure out where his lover stood. Which side was he on? He was furious at his affection for Fell but that could be dealt with. His over-the-top public display in the basement had shocked Lucas until he realised it was to try to imply that he had no interest in Fell, that he didn’t care what he saw or how much he knew that Anthony wanted only Lucas. Certainly, the desire was real enough but Anthony had never enjoyed such public displays. It had been for show. Anthony very clearly had feelings for the detective. He would need to deal with that. He was also concerned at how Anthony was taking the information about why they had parted and his father’s involvement. Hopefully, the rest of the explanation would bring him back on side.

They stood together at the end of the row of buildings looking at the night sky. It was a beautiful clear night and the stars were infinite in number. Lucas put his right arm around Anthony’s waist and felt a momentary stiffness but it was quickly released and his head rested on Lucas’ shoulder moments later. Was Anthony upset and frustrated or was he pretending that he was still willing to stay with Lucas? Was he planning on betraying him? He needed to have sex with Anthony as soon as possible. He would cave then. He always did. And it had been far too long for Lucas, particularly with the two weeks of interrogation. Fell had hit a nerve there. He needed Anthony now and wanted him so badly. A pity Aziraphale hadn’t been more accommodating. But before any of that Lucas had to explain. He had to be sure that Anthony would still fuck him once he knew everything and that he would stay. Then there would be something to build on. He pulled him closer and tilted his head up to kiss him. It was soft, warm, and enthusiastic as usual. He released him and they stared at the sky in silence again. He wondered, not for the first time, if Hollywood had lost a star when Anthony became a lawyer.

***

Crowley snuggled back into Lucas’ shoulder and sighed. He needed him to think things could at least potentially go back to normal between them. Which wasn’t the problem. The problem was the part of him that thought the same. It was always hard to focus with Lucas. And the information dump had his head spinning. Thoughts of Lucas, his bastard father, Oversight, and all the things that had been missed spun through his mind. But at the centre of the chaos was Aziraphale. Aziraphale who was tied to a chair in a basement. Aziraphale who looked like he had been through Hell in the last two weeks but still managed some defiance. Crowley couldn’t see how to get him out but he would try. He would try anything.  

He sighed and pushed to release himself from Lucas. “I guess we should go back, love. I’m getting tired and you have more to say.” He slipped his left hand into Lucas’ right and turned back to the building they had come from. Lucas had them enter through a different door and Crowley saw into a small room filled with TV screens displaying different views of the Waterfront. Cameras. Night-vision enabled cameras. Lucas had every inch of the Waterfront under the watchful eye of his men. The two men in the room had guns. Crowley didn’t comment but he certainly wasn’t running away anytime soon.

They returned to Lucas’ room and Crowley sat back in his chair. Lucas opened another bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

“Getting me drunk won’t make me any happier about this you know.”

Lucas smiled. “Better to have something to take the edge off though I think.” He rested against the little table that held the wine and gazed at Crowley. “So, where were we? I need to tell you dad’s plan and then I’ll tell you mine. It shouldn’t take too much longer.”

Crowley nodded and drank.

“Dad’s plan has two streams to it. Demon and something else. We’ll start with the drug because I think it will amuse you. Well actually I know it’s going to annoy you but you really do have to laugh at some of this too. You wouldn’t think my father was a presumptive Nobel Laureate sometimes.

“Dad has an iron grip on the underworld of the West Coast now and with me we have the East Coast too. We will control the drug trade in the next few months. Among the things that I’ve been testing here in Sanctuary is how fast I can take over the trade in a new city. Sanctuary had a robust criminal network and they didn’t last two weeks. My methods and the drug are complimentary there.

“Demon is interesting. Dad has been working on it for nearly thirty years in one way or another. I think he may even have started out with good intentions but those are dead longer than my mother.  I took over production in Mexico last year and I’ve been moving it into the US for the last few months. Obviously, it has some problems – it’s far too addictive for many people and others, as you are aware from Fell, have a horrendous reaction to it without many of the “benefits”. There is a happy middle ground though – a sort of compliance high. The right amount can be used to get people to talk more freely and be much more open to doing what they are told to do. That was why we gave it to Fell the night Gabriel sent you to Chester to get him from the jail. I wanted to know what he knew about Gabriel’s plans. Instead of telling us, he just kept rambling incoherently and increasingly aggressively about you. We know why he was so upset about you now of course. I have tried the reduced dose on him here and it has been more effective, if still not perfect. I think he’s just in that 5% or so of the population that it won’t ever work on reliably. Or he is just so stubborn even state-of-the art interrogation drugs won’t work on him without enhancements from other methods. He nearly died before he gave you up – he really thought you were properly FBI.” Lucas laughed as Crowley felt a wave of horrendous guilt. “And he wouldn’t agree to work for me. I do see why you like him.”

Crowley looked at Lucas in horror. He ignored the comments about Aziraphale but worried that damage might have been done to him with this drug. “Lucas, this is horrendous. You cannot expect me to go along with this. That drug… it could be used for anything… awful things. Red fucking line things.”

Lucas nodded. “It could. But that’s not the plan.”

“You’re plan doesn’t matter,” said Crowley heatedly. “You’re clearly setting up here to mass produce this drug. Once this is out there in the wild properly you can’t control what people use it for or who they give it to! This is just not on. I won’t help with this. I won’t!” Ease the fuck back… Fuck what has he done to Aziraphale?

“Calm down, Darling. I told you a lot of what my father wants is ridiculous. What dad wants it for is to target specific people – judges, politicians, other influential individuals. I agree that it could be useful there for many reasons, though it’s not without risk while the effects are so hard to predict on any given person. The more ridiculous part is that he wants to use it at political rallies. Free water in the summer with thousands of people listening to political messages.”

“People will die! This is insane. It will be picked up when people end up in hospital.”

Lucas smiled. “Oh this is the actual genius part of it. The drug’s effects lasts for a long time but the markers, the ones that are easy to pick up in a blood test, barely last six hours. It’s almost invisible. Unless people know what to look for and they won’t. There are other tests for it but they only exist in my father’s labs. I agree though that something would be noticed.”

Crowley stood up and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Lucas, you can’t be serious with this. How can you possibly be ok with this after your mother? How?”

Lucas rolled his head from side-to-side. “I’m not really. I have no intention of it being deployed to the general public. Well, not the way he wants anyway. This is, as you know, outside of my comfort zone. But I can see the utility in certain circumstances. I do wonder what you might tell me with the right dose.”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat. “Fuck off Lucas.” The other man smiled slyly and then continued.

“I have a different plan for the drug. We’ll get back to that in a minute. The second part links to his nonsense about political rallies.”

“Dear old dad plans to run for election in three years. We’re testing an interesting plan here in Sanctuary with Gabriel’s governorship run next year.”

Crowley shrugged. Part of him thought that he should just get up and leave now, while he might have a chance to do so. He finally had the information he needed and if he moved fast enough he might be able to get help for Aziraphale. Who cared what Lucas and his bloody father were up to in Sanctuary? And that prick would never be elected. He wasn’t even a member of any useful party as far as he knew. “You don’t care about politics Lucas or any of that crap. I mean we’ve bought our share of politicians but you don’t need anything else.”

“I want some more, higher up. Gabriel is the start of that. But what dad wants is to be sure that when he runs, he wins.”

“He won’t. No one is going to elect an arsehole academic with millions in the bank and the people skills of a week-old dirty sock. He has no political experience and hasn’t done anything in public other than pontificate. He’s not electable.”

Lucas was nodding. “I agree entirely. But let me tell you the rest.”

Crowley sighed, stood up and stretched across Lucas to refill both of their wine glasses. Lucas let his hand graze along Crowley side. It sent a bust of electricity though him. “I hope you have more of this or something else because this is taking too long Lucas.”

He got a glare as his response. “Anyway,” Lucas said, largely ignoring the irritated attitude Crowley was doing his best to project to hide his nerves, “So what’s this great plan? Do you think you can get Gabriel elected if you drug the population senseless? I mean that would make more sense than them actively choosing to vote for him.”

Lucas chuckled. “Gabriel is good at getting elected. Very good. That’s why he want’s Fell back. The benefits of having a handsome police officer on his arm in this city and in fact this state are huge. Fell is also charming and a good host, apparently. It makes sense. And they do like their family values here so Gabriel being divorced from his pretty cop is at least a little problematic. It doesn’t matter for mayor but it makes the governor race tighter. And his infidelity will come up in the run. He’d much rather say it was a slip, stress-related and that they have reconciled than anything else.

“Anyway, despite my father’s wishes I have no intention of using the drug at rallies. Even with the low likelihood of the drug being detected, I think the risk is too high and you’re right, it’s too dangerous. If we have a large-ish rally with say 5,000 people and even 5% of them have a really bad reaction, that’s still 250 people in hospital with similar unexplained illnesses.  Someone will figure it out. He’s a fucking fool. I’m obviously not doing that. What I am planning to do is to test it more generally.  We need field data on the dose because dad does not have it right. There are plenty of people here that won’t be missed and with Gabriel and, through him the chief of police, under my thumb it’s an excellent testing ground.”

“Right,” said Crowley briskly. “So what are you up to here then? Because this is all too small for you. And this thing with the drug is stupid, as you’ve just said. It won’t work. And you’re already defying your father so clearly shit is going to hit the fan somewhere.”

Lucas gave him a half smile. “I have made some investments that dad does not know about and I’ve been looking at polling data for the last several decades. It’s even easier than playing stocks. Have you ever looked?”

Crowley looked at him in exasperation. “Em… no not really. I can’t vote here so I don’t bother. Elections don’t tend to interest me, you know that. Well beyond changes that might impact the courts.”

“They’re fun. There is usually a pattern – not in all districts or states and not all the time but enough. Regardless of party, the swing states are the ones that people focus on for national elections because they’re the ones that tip a precarious balance. But even in those states, it can come down to a handful of locations within congressional districts. It’s exactly the same but on a smaller scale in Europe. I’ve looked closely at the UK, France and Germany. A major swing is highly unusual these days but little variations, tiny change, they can have a huge impact on the outcome. You don’t need a blunt instrument to tip an election. You need a thumb resting ever so gently on the scales, nothing more. Subtle and elegant is what is needed, not a sledgehammer. And that’s what I have.”

Crowley was clearly looking at him in utter confusion.

“Your friend was really close to figuring it out. You looked at his files and you’ve been looking into my interests here I’m sure. Can you not guess?”

Crowley stood up and walked around the room slowly, thinking. The furniture company was what was out of place and had a hidden connection to Lucas through Megiddo. The deliveries of laptops that Aziraphale had found so suspicious and the furniture company that didn’t deliver furniture. That was it but he couldn’t see. Something to do with elections. Something technological that wouldn’t be noticed. Something much more reliable than an unpredictable and dangerous drug. Something that left far less to chance and wasn’t based around ego. Something Lucas would do that Enoch would sneer at. He turned to look at Lucas and felt an icy shiver run down his spine.

“What has Advent been delivering, Lucas? Because it’s not furniture. Aziraphale thought it was laptops but… What is stockpiled here in one of the other buildings?”

Lucas smiled softly. “Very good. Did you find Megiddo?”

Crowley nodded. “It’s not as secure as it should be. I can fix it. If I stay.”

“Oh you’re so good. What does it own?”

“Lucas… it owns Advent and a bunch of other things. Including shares in the Swamp and the Apex that I assume Gabriel doesn’t know about. I saw a few shares for Eden in there too, which is probably a good idea.  I only found it a few days ago so I haven’t gone through everything or found all of its assets. But I will. You’re good but not good enough to hide these things.”

Lucas smirked and Crowley’s heart flipped again. His own fucking arrogance had screwed him “Or you are and you let me find this but you’ve hidden the bit that matters.”

“Well done Darling. And if even you can’t find everything then the government most certainly never will. You’ll have to forgive me but I used you to check security.”

Crowley ground his teeth together. This was getting ridiculous. “So what did I not find, then?”

“A few hundred voting machines. If you had found Omega, you would have seen that it bought an electronics company that has a small contract to maintain voting machines. Part of the new contract is that it must replace any it can’t fix. And it must check them six months before any planned election. When they are checked, a small programme that deletes their operating system will be put in one or two machines and new ones will be provided. So few, and scattered around districts. Just enough to tip counts in whatever direction I decide. That’s what I’ll trial here. Gabriel should win on his own so no one will notice. It will be popular when he announces in January and there are five voting areas that are ideal – they will be tight but could realistically go either way. I will tip three of them in his favour and two in the favour of opponents – splitting their share of the vote, of course. No one will notice because it won’t be surprising.”

Crowley nodded and thought. This was more what he would expect from Lucas. Complex but elegant and very, very hard to prove. Hard to notice, never mind prove. “You must really regret not finishing that PhD Lucas. It’s really held you back,” he said sarcastically.

Lucas laughed softly. “Turns out I didn’t need it. And not having a PhD in computer science further removes me from suspicion, should any ever arise. How could a poor drop-out ever programme this? And it was boring. And what my father wanted. New York was much more fun.”

Crowley smiled slightly. “But you don’t want your father to be elected, surely? He’ll upset everything, cause chaos and… he just shouldn’t have that sort of power. And what does he think? That it’s just the drug? Does he know about the machines?”

Lucas grinned at him evilly. “He doesn’t know about the machines. They’re not for him. And you’ve forgotten about yourself Darling. Why do you think I sent you to Chicago?”

Crowley rubbed his eyes and tried to think through another abrupt change in the conversation.

“It was a good place for me to go to give the impression we were done. Everyone who matters knows you and Dagon do not get along and have competing interests. They still haven’t forgiven you for sending that guy back a piece at a time.” He shuddered internally at the memory.

“In the context of what I’ve told you tonight, not just in general.”

Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to think. He had mental whip-lash from the conversation and wanted to lie down. He wanted to think without Lucas or anyone else looking at him. This was so much worse than he had believed. Worse than the Witch thought. If Enoch was Archangel he was already causing fucking chaos and if he did somehow get elected, there was no telling what would happen. No one would be able to stop him because if anyone tired, Oversight would arrange an accident or destroy their finances or start a war in their company or country. This was horrendous. Demon was not the problem. Oversight was. And much more so than they had thought.

“I don’t fucking know, Lucas. I’m not sure I know my own name at this point. I wish you had kept me informed. I could have helped. Ugh… why Chicago… you’ve already said that it was partly because your father doesn’t have sway there. It was safer for me there than elsewhere because neither of you had power in Chicago. But also because I could turn them, and I have. I told you already, Chicago is yours when you want it and you have already said we’re going there soon to start the takeover. I don’t think it will take long. Then you’ll effectively have the mid-West as well as the East Coast. You’ll have access to much more than your dad in LA. I suppose that if you really wanted, it means we have more sway, more potential to win any outright hostility that may arise if you say no to him again.”

“Oh Darling. You are close but the brutality of our world has always eluded you. It is one of the things I like about you. You retain a softness that I adore. I’ve gotten back in with dad so that when he dies, LA and the West Coast will fall in line rather than start a war. It is widely acknowledged that we’re back on good terms and that I’m being a good boy and doing what I’m told. He’s going to have an accident, hopefully in the next few weeks. I wouldn’t have come for you if I wasn’t sure this time.”

That’s more like you, Lucas. Fuck…

“O – Kay… so you’re going to bump him off. Then what? Won’t that throw Oversight into chaos as well as the West Coast underworld?”

Lucas nodded. “I have removed all but one of his existing lieutenants. Michael is the last one. She was strongly implying that she had a major win coming, that she had something on me. I now know that something was you. I will be framing Michael and she is going to be outed as an asset for a hostile nation. That leaves only me in the second tier of Oversight. So that’s nice and neat. In LA, I will be blaming my uncle for my father’s demise. I’ll invite him to neutral ground in Chicago to talk and I’ll kill him. The underworld will applaud me for my rapid action. In three weeks, Darling, it will all fit into place. I will have it all. And then, we can do whatever the Hell we want.”

What if I just want to go for dinner and a drink? What if I just want to go to fucking sleep for three months?

“Somehow, I feel there is more, Lucas,” said Crowley tiredly.

“There is so much more. The voting machines, once we are satisfied that they work – and they will. I wrote the programmes and designed the model – will be offered to other countries. India is an obvious choice as is Brazil but I need to look at their polling data in a lot more detail. I don’t know where to target there yet. You’re beloved homeland is backwards and determined to keep paper but we can lobby for change subtly there over time. In Europe, France and Germany are both considering using machines again, so we will pressure the right people to get the outcome we want. This is where Demon is helpful. Either low-level compliance or full addiction of the right people will work. This is what Oversight will be doing. We will be able to influence anything – everything. And if someone resists, we can flood their district with Demon and destroy it.”

Crowley sat with his mouth open.

“Think about what we could achieve with this, Darling! We will start slow here but in a few years – we can make anyone do anything we want. We can make them to the right thing, the wrong thing or anything in between. Imagine the fun we could have.”

“L… Lucas… this is insane. This is… fuck it’s not a Bond kink you have, it’s a Bond villain kink.” But it might work if he was careful and took things slowly. And Lucas had patience.

“In this scenario, Darling, you’re the one with the Bond Villain kink. We could also use it to convince people to behave. The method is neutral, well to some extent. It’s the ends that would matter.”

Oh why did I not listen to my own advice? I should have run before we met again. This is insane. He wants chaos. If he isn’t stopped here…

“Lucas, this is going too far. This… you cannot be serious.”

“What is the problem? Dad will be gone, we will be together and we will be utterly untouchable. Even if I keep it to the States alone, we will be powerful beyond imagination. I’ll restrict the drug, if that’s what’s really bothering you and make sure it is only ever used by us. Would that help?”

Crowley nodded as his head spun. “I suppose running away together somewhere sunny is out of the question?”

“Yes.”

Crowley stood up and finished the wine in his glass. “I need to think about all of this. I need to figure it all out in my head. Are you going to give me that? Or do you need a full declaration of obedience now?”

Lucas frowned at him. “Don’t be like that. You can be as involved or not as you like. I want you back. You. I’d like you to work for me again but if you don’t want to fine. Once you stay.”

Liar. “And if I want to walk?”

“I hope that you will decide otherwise, but once you keep quiet, that’s a choice you can make. I won’t stop you.”

You’ll fucking kill me. He nodded. “OK. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Crowley turned to leave but found a hand on his wrist.

“Stay.”

“Not tonight Lucas. You’ve most definitely killed the mood from earlier.” I need to get the fuck out of here! Need to think. Need a plan…

“Just stay.” Lucas moved towards him and starred into his eyes as if he was trying to give him three years of missed affection in seconds. “Nothing other than lying together. I’m not asking for anything other than your presence. It’s been so long. Please Anthony.”

He needed to leave. He needed a way to contact the Witch. He needed to figure out how to get Aziraphale out of here alive. But he felt his thoughts drift away in the oceans that were Lucas’ obsidian eyes. “Of course, Lucas.”

***

Week 5: Early hours of Monday morning (Day 14 for Aziraphale with Lucas)

Lucas watched Anthony’s chest rise and fall in steady deep breaths. It felt wonderful having him in his arms again, even if he had missed his chance at more tonight. Anthony was so sensitive sometimes and he had known he wouldn’t take the revelations of this evening particularly well. He would come around. The fact that he had stayed tonight was a strong indicator of that even if he had refused to take his pants and shirt off, which was irritating. Lucas wanted to feel his flesh properly but had put a t-shirt on himself as a show of acceptance of Anthony’s irksome boundary. A minor defiance. Lucas enjoyed Anthony’s little push backs but he didn’t have time for this now. Not when the outcomes of disagreements were always the same. Lucas needed to make sure he didn’t have too much time to think before he was locked in by events. Then the truth of who Anthony thought he was wouldn’t matter. Lucas knew who he really was, regardless of what Anthony thought to be true. And once he hadn’t gone too far, forgiveness was possible. Fell had clouded his thoughts and was obscuring his affections. He hid it well, but not well enough. That affection needed to be broken. Clearly, Lucas needed him to surrender before he left this room tomorrow morning. It was so typical of Anthony to get caught up on a minor detail rather than looking at the big picture. An excellent trait in a lawyer, a dreadful one in a lover.

***

Crowley woke to Lucas’ intense gaze. He fell into it, pulled without any conscious thought or will of his own. “What… what time is it?” The room was still dark, with only stray beams of moonlight streaking through a gap in the curtains. Lucas traced fingers softly down Crowley’s left arm and encircled his wrist. His body tingled at the touch. Lucas pulled his arm above the covers and twisted it gently to catch a stray line of light on the watch. He rubbed his thumb along its face.

“You still wear it.”

“Never took it off.”

Lucas smiled. “It’s 5 am.”

“Good. Plenty of time for more sleep then.” But he couldn’t close his eyes, couldn’t move or even think. Lucas consumed him. Lips pressed against his but he hadn’t noticed the other man move; a tongue caressed his when he hadn’t realised he’d opened his mouth; hands pulled at his remaining clothes and he didn’t know that his own were helping. Then they were moving together, as they had countless times before. There were no words and little noise. Intense, consuming rhythms took over without the influence of thought. Afterwards, Crowley curled into Lucas, pressing his back against his lover’s chest and pulling Lucas’ arms around him. It was the easiest way to hide the tears that slid down his face. Eventually, he returned to sleep.