Happy Holidays, blueeyedtigress!
Title: Barghest: The Three Heads of Cerberus
For: BlueEyedTigress
By: secret_weapon
Rating: PG-13? (Swearing, some violence and like the film warnings like to say mild peril. Nothing terminal, though)
Notes: Standard disclaimer applies. This ended a bit darker than it started but I hope it
still fits the requirements for adventure/romance with A/C, Death, Dog and
ducks... well, not so much the ducks but they are there. Apologies for the
length and the groan-worthy puns. (21,500 +/- 100 Words).(Aziraphale/Crowley, Adam/Pepper). Adam and Pepper go to my old university. Internet cookies if you know which one it is. Happy Holidays!
Aziraphale likes books. He likes the concept of them - thoughts and ideas and stories preserved in ink and paper. He likes the smell and feel of them. He likes how the first time he sees a new book, whether it is old and crumbling from a couple of centuries ago or so new off the printing press that the ink is still wet, it gives him goose bumps. Books are powerful and comforting and he believes that each book contains a small part of the author’s soul.
If you were to tell him of e-books and downloadable PDF files he would look at you in horror.
Books are loyal and truthful and do not tell lies. They have but one story to tell and they stick to it. But while books can tell you their stories they cannot say anything.
They don’t listen either. While they may have been around for decades and centuries as well they don’t know what it’s like.
Sometimes Aziraphale thinks that if it hadn’t been for the Arrangement he would have f- gone mad. He can see his own purpose through Crowley - “I see a wile, I thwart.”
And it does do Aziraphale good to see Crowley - he is so maddeningly, gloriously alive. Sometimes he wishes he could be as alive as that. So completely in the moment. He has his Duty to think of and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way, but he can enjoy his time with Crowley and his guileless smile and easy charm and Oh God that smile could break your heart…
And sometimes Aziraphale wishes … he wishes -
He wishes.
***
It’s his best kept secret, but Crowley doesn’t like Regent’s park. He has nothing against the park itself, but he hates the ducks and the geese and other waterfowl. He doesn’t like how their feathers and droppings cover the paths and the green spaces. He doesn’t like their raucous quacking and honking. And he doesn’t like how aggressive they get when there is the slightest possibility of food from passers-by.
It’s the tourist’s fault, he thinks. The tourists and the children and that damned angel. Throwing them bread and crisps and what not. They had the right idea with Trafalgar Square - fining people who fed the pigeons. No more shitting on old Nelson now.
He actually doesn’t mind Trafalgar Square. What’s wrong with that, he thinks. Why is it always Regent’s Park and the Ritz? Why can’t we go somewhere else for a change? Oh yes, because Aziraphale has to feed the effing ducks. I should refuse to go. Why can’t we do anything that I want to do?
But then he thinks of how amused the Angel always is at the bird’s bluster and at their arrogance and how he looks with his face flushed and eyes sparkling with laughter and despite himself Crowley heads for the Park, all protests unsaid.
Saturday
They didn’t really have a reason to meet up that particular Saturday. They just showed up there, at their usual spot to find Adam waiting for them.
“Why can’t you just use the telephone, like everyone else?” asked Crowley. “Instead of just willing us to show up?”
Aziraphale nudged him, “It’s not that we don’t want to see you. I mean, we’re always glad to help, aren’t we Crowley? It would just be a bit more polite to ask, don’t you think?”
That was Aziraphale for you, never wanting to upset the boy. Always going on about how they shouldn’t be too hard on him, and that he needed compassion and love. If anyone asked for Crowley’s opinion, he would say that what the boy needed was a good kick in the pants.
“It was just quicker this way,” said Adam. “And besides, Crowley would just say no.”
“That isn’t the point,” snapped Crowley. “The point is - oh fuck it, what do you want?”
“A favour,” said Adam, “and I won’t mind if you do say no, I just really hope that you don’t.”
“No,” said Crowley quickly, “No! No and No! Whatever it is, I want no part in it, and neither does the Angel here. And you’re not a kid any more, you’re what? Eighteen now? You don’t need us to sort out whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself in. No, no, no, no, no!”
The boy’s face fell. Aziraphale crumpled. Crowley could practically hear him fold.
“Oh come on Crowley; let’s at least hear him out. Honestly dear, how bad could it be?
***
“Oh let’s hear him out, Crowley. Oh it’s only a little dog, Crowley. It’s only for a little while, Crowley -”
“Now, my dear, don’t be like that. It wasn’t unreasonable. It is his first year at University after all and he’ll be back for Christmas in no time.”
THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Crowley, “Is everyone just going to show up unannounced today? Is this some sort of reunion? All we need is now is Hastur and Ligur and we’re good to go!”
HE WONT BE BACK FOR IT. HE’LL FIND SOME EXCUSE. THERE WILL BE TOO MANY PARTIES AT CHRISTMAS. AT EASTER HE’LL HAVE TO STUDY FOR HIS EXAMS. DURING SUMMER HE’LL WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY OR VOLUNTEER SOMEWHERE TROPICAL WITH A BEACH AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT HE’LL BE BACK AT UNIVERSITY. A DOG IS FOR LIFE.
They all looked down at the animal in question, who whined and hung its head.
“You’re just being pessimistic,” said Aziraphale, although he did sound a tad uncertain. “Adam will be back for this little creature in no time.”
NO TIME? YOU’VE BEEN AROUND LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT ALL ANY OF US HAVE IS TIME. HUMANS DON’T CHANGE. HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF AND ALL THAT YOU CAN BE SURE OF IS TIME.
“I hate to burst your bubble, angel,” drawled Crowley, “But I agree with the man with the scythe. Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I don’t see - wait - what do you mean by -”
“You agreed to take the mutt. You’re stuck with it.”
“But, but I thought that -”
“I don’t care what you thought. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Look I don’t expect you to bear the whole burden, but surely a couple of days every now and then wouldn’t be too much.”
“Right. And you thought that you’d just agree to whatever and I’d just play along out of the goodness of my non-beating, stone-cold heart? Hello? Demon here.”
“Hrrmph!” Aziraphale puffed up his chest obviously trying to look dignifiedly wounded. “Well I’m sure we can do just well without you, can’t we Dog?” Dog looked up confused as if to say keep me out of this. “Come along, we don’t want to keep the demon waiting.”
He flounced off but if he was going for a sweeping exit the effect was ruined slightly as he tripped over a duck.
Dog looked at Crowley reproachfully and then followed Aziraphale stopping to snap at the offending duck which hissed at him menacingly.
Crowley should have been feeling satisfied at avoiding a bothersome situation and annoying the angel was always amusing and he had certainly managed that. But for some reason he was furious.
“Well I hope you’re happy now,” he spat turning around looking for someone to vent his anger at. Death had gone, as silently as he had arrived and all that was there was a rather bemused looking goose.
“That’s right,” he continued [Crowley, not the goose], “I hope you’re happy, you great dirty bird, sitting there judging me. Don’t you even start!”
And with that he stalked off looking for someone to make miserable.
Monday
“We’re getting on well, aren’t we?” Aziraphale had started talking to the little dog. It was odd -it was almost as if he’d never been without him.
“And Crowley though it would be too much for me. Well we soon show him, won’t we, dear?”
Dog wagged his tail. He wasn’t quite sure of his new master who was nothing like his old one. For one thing Dog was getting a lot less exercise than he was used to, but there was much better food and a lot more of it, and he felt a lot less guilty around this one. This one acted as if wanting to go outside was incredibly clever and he never expected Dog to do any incredible feats like jump over five foot fences because, well, that Collie on the noisy box did. No, Dog wasn’t quite sure of this master, but he thought that he could get used to him.
“You know, I’d always thought of getting a pet,” Aziraphale continued cheerfully. “I mentioned it to Crowley once. He thought I’d be a cat person but I don’t know. Cats are proud and aloof and well, they’re rather selfish, don’t you think? I think Crowley would be much better suited with a cat. It might give him a taste of his own medicine. I suppose you’ll be wanting breakfast.”
Dog barked in agreement and jumped up a couple of times.
“Yes I’ve always seen myself as a dog person. Although-” he paused to look at Dog critically. “I never quite saw myself with a dog like you. Now don’t take this the wrong way dear,” and now Aziraphale turned and began rummaging in a cupboard. “But I always thought I’d have a dog that was a bit more of the helpful kind - you know the type that always knows if you’re sad, rescues people from cave ins and earthquakes and goes after the bad men - like a St Bernard I suppose. “
A whooshing sound. The type that you might expect if a very small dog suddenly grew into a very large one.
Aziraphale frowned slightly. “Did you hear that? Oh My Goodness!”
“Woof!” said Dog in a much deeper voice.
***
Those who knew about the not quite Apocalypse would later note that at
least three of the horsemen, (or bikers, if you want to be picky), appeared to have bounced back with a vengeance. Even Pestilence had been persuaded out of retirement and had stepped up to the challenge admirably with new hospital-born super bugs and bird flue pandemics. Pollution had been heard to complain that there wasn't enough of a challenge. Humans were quite happy to pollute their world without any encouragement. They might worry about the depletion of resources and global warming; in fact almost everyone had serious concerns, but when it came to actually doing something about it no-one was willing to give up their little luxuries. Speaking of global warming, Famine was now working overtime. Those who didn't have to worry about where their next meal was coming from were dying to be thin and those who did... well, they were just dying.
As for War, she was very good at what she did. She enjoyed what she did. She didn't need a reason to work harder, it came naturally to her. But now, well, you do know what they say about a woman scorned.
And Death. He'd always been there. He always would be. He'd seen it all before and he knew he would see it again. Eternity is a very long time.
It doesn't matter what side you're on in a war or what you're fighting for. The bottom line is that people die. And while some of us think that there is no greater thing than to lay down your life for your country, some of us believe that life is the greatest thing. So when certain World Leaders were holding a conference in London to discuss about the way forward in the latest armed skirmish, a largish crowd gathered outside to protest.
Dog should not have liked London. He'd lived in Lower Tadfield for all of his life and was not used to crowds and traffic and noise. He found the chaos strangely familiar and rather enjoyable. What he didn't like much was this new body. He didn't mind the size - but he wasn't loving his big shaggy coat - it was far too hot for that sort of thing. He also seemed to be drooling and slobbering a lot more but he supposed it was down to the heat. And he had a little barrel round his neck for no apparent reason. Not that he knew it was a barrel, he was just aware of something round tucked under his chin where his collar usually was. He couldn't see it, but it was entirely unnecessary and incredibly uncomfortable.
It had been an odd sort of day. He'd been waiting for his breakfast when his master had expressed a preference for this particular form. This had been accompanied by an irresistible urge to be helpful. Now Dog, by nature, wanted to please his master, but this was different and he couldn't quite understand it.
Unfortunately, nothing was going very well.
He'd tried to help old women cross the road but they'd whacked him over the head with their umbrellas or walking stick and one of them had even chased him with her scooter. He'd offered to help some dog walkers control their unruly dogs but they had just stood there wailing about how some vicious monster was trying to eat their poor fluffy and wouldn't someone help.
He'd tried to herd some children off the road and into their pre-school nursery because they could get hurt faffing about outside but half of them ran about screaming and the other half reacted gleefully to see the 'big doggy' and chased him while attempting to get on his back. And having several chubby little hands pulling at your fur really hurt. And then he'd tried to rescue a kitten stuck up a tree...
Let's just say that dogs aren't really built for climbing trees. And the kitten did jump down safely. Shame about the tree, though.
After all of Dog's helpful advances his master got more and more upset and flustered and apologised profusely with much wringing of his hands. Dog didn't think much of this. His old master never apologised. But he did feel a bit bad about how he was disappointing his new master.
His master had tied him to a lamppost and then gone into a red box where he was now talking agitatedly into what Dog knew was called a phone. He wasn't really sure what humans got out of talking into these things but they seemed to do it a lot. He whined impatiently. Why were they waiting? There were people to help in the world.
Even though helping people hadn't been going very well, he was sure that he was getting better at it. He needed to do something bigger - then his master would be happy.
But he wasn't getting anywhere tied to this post. He knew he'd get in trouble going off on his own but really there were people out there that needed helping. He tugged on his leash a couple of times - the added poundage was certainly useful - and broke free. Now he could really sink his teeth in, his master was just slowing him down anyway.
Which is how he ended up by the protest barriers. On a side note, it says a lot about how preoccupied the average Londoner is that no-one had stopped to remark on a St Bernard wandering around unsupervised.
"God, it makes me sick that we elected some of them!"
"I know, I mean they have the moral compass of dung beetle!"
"Hey, hey! No dissing the dung beetles, man! After all what did the dung beetles ever do to you?"
"Heh, that's true, I suppose. I mean this lot are positively evil! Someone should do something about it."
"Well that's why we're here today! Alright, I think they're coming. Everyone ready?"
Most of human chatter washed over Dog, but one thing stood out. There were evil men and someone should do something about it. Well now that he was there he certainly would be doing something about it.
The big black cars were coming up now and Dog had watched enough on the noisy box with his old master to know that big black cars meant trouble. He bared his teeth and got ready. The evil men wouldn't know what bit them.
***
Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley actually did know how to use the internet. He'd always thought that people were very prone to exaggeration. For example, take the term 'roflmao', Crowley had never believed that anything could be so funny that it would reduce him to rolling on the floor laughing his arse off.
Until today.
He didn't even care that he was probably getting leaves and grass on his new leather jacket - and for Crowley, that was saying a lot. The ducks looked on disapprovingly.
"It wasn't that funny," said Aziraphale, rather primly from a bench.
"Oh I beg to differ," countered Crowley raising his head, or at least that was what he was going for. It came out as "Oh -" wheeze "Aaaiiihaha -" gasp - "be - hee - hahaha," before he collapsed again on the grass.
"Crowley!" Aziraphale was getting rather desperate now, "Stop it! It isn't a laughing matter; I don't know what my superiors are going to say! This is an unmitigated disaster! I am never going to live this down. This is worse than anything I've ever done, or not done before, put together!"
"Really?" asked Crowley, who had calmed down by this point and was retrieving his sunglasses, "Worse than that time the world almost ended?"
"Well, no," Aziraphale admitted. "Maybe not that bad. But it's still pretty bad."
"So there was a little bit of a ruckus. A couple of people will be spending a few hours in the cells. No politicians were harmed. All that it's going to cost them is the price of a pair of trousers!"
"One of them had a heart attack!"
"He weighed about 300 pounds! And it was only a little heart attack! It'll be a wake up call!"
"Only a little - ?"
"And you know some good has come out of it. I got a commendation!"
"Crowley!"
"Look,” Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale and slung an arm over his shoulder cheerfully. “You’re overreacting. It was a simple mistake. You just got carried away and miracled the mutt into a canine version of you. It could happen to anyone. Maybe not anyone with an ounce of sense but you know what I mean.”
Aziraphale sniffed. “You know from you, that’s almost comforting.”
“And you have to admit it was a little funny.” Crowley nudged his shoulder playfully.
“It was not!” Despite himself Aziraphale was feeling a little better.
ON THE CONTRARY I FOUND IT VERY AMUSING.
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” Aziraphale said huffily. “And this could be serious. I don’t even remember consciously doing it.”
Crowley stared at Dog, “Well he looks ok now. Maybe you’re getting old. See the thing is, angel cakes, one too many goes a long way.”
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE. THIS IS A PUN, YES? BECAUSE ANGEL CAKES COULD BE A FORM OF ENDEARMENT AND ALSO A TYPE OF CAKE?
Aziraphale snorted. “It wasn’t that a good a joke to begin with.”
“The thing you need to remember about humour, Reaper man, as some dead guy once said, is it is like a frog.”
YOU MEAN HARD TO CATCH AND OCCASIONALLY VENOMOUS?
“Erm no… well yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” said Crowley a bit discomfited. “But if the angel here is spontaneously miracling away when he isn’t meaning to then we could have a teensy problem.”
“You mean I do,” said Aziraphale. “Well I suppose the first thing is to get this little fellow out of the way. I certainly can’t have him around. I wonder if Anathema -”
“She and Newt have gone off for a couple of weeks, to reconnect or something. Although if Newt is involved I don’t know if she wants to be connecting anything.”
“Well maybe Mr. Shadwell.”
There was an uneasy silence. Dog whimpered.
“No, you’re quite right,” Aziraphale said shaking his head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. Now what do I do?” He looked at Crowley somewhat beseechingly.
“You could always give it back to the boy.”
Aziraphale sighed heavily and looked at his knees. “I suppose there’s nothing else to be done. I do hate to have to let him down. I did promise nothing would go wrong and I feel so awful about having to break my word.” He paused here to quickly glance at Crowley. “Poor thing. Barely two days since he’s gone off - you know he won’t stay if there’s no-one to look after this little creature. I just wish - “
“Enough, already!” Crowley glared at him. “Alright, look. If you promise you’ll have these involuntary spasms checked out and fixed ASAP I suppose I could look after him for a while.”
“Oh my dear! That is wonderful news! I knew I could count on you, Crowley… Oh, I do owe you one.” Aziraphale hugged him enthusiastically.
Crowley stood stiffly until the angel let him go and then took a couple of steps back looking slightly abashed. “Yeah,” he said with a slight tremor in his voice. “Damn straight you owe me one. I think I have somewhere to be now. Somewhere away. Come on, Dog”
He turned abruptly and walked into a lamppost.
Aziraphale stared as Crowley hurriedly righted himself and dragged Dog off on his leash. “Oh dear,” he said. “I wonder if the hug was a bit too much. I just forgot myself, I suppose.”
I THOUGHT IT WAS SKILLFULLY DONE.
“Oh?” said Aziraphale absently, “What?”
But he was alone in the park. Aziraphale sighed and the headed home himself, suddenly feeling very empty.
***
Crowley walked into his flat and surveyed his domain.
“Alright plants, I want you all to listen up. This fine canine specimen is called Dog. He will be taking up residence here. Any one of you that falls below standard shall be given to Dog for his own personal usage for two days and then incinerated. Got that? I’m glad we’ve had this little chat.”
He looked down at Dog and grinned. Dog cocked his head to one side.
“Well Laddie, you may have some uses after all. Now no jumping on the furniture or piddling on the floor and we shouldn’t do so badly.” He paused, “Although, given your track record, that shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, I can’t think how anyone would be able to mess this up worse that Aziraphale did, can you? Nope, didn’t think so. And now I’m talking to a dumb, no offence, animal. Gah! I need a drink.”
You’d think that with being around from before the dawn of time and having seen an awful lot, if not it all, Crowley should have known better to tempt God, Fate and Murphy’s Law.
Some people (or more specifically, in this case, supernatural beings) never learn.
Although, to be fair, he did do slightly better than Aziraphale. By about six hours.
Part II
For: BlueEyedTigress
By: secret_weapon
Rating: PG-13? (Swearing, some violence and like the film warnings like to say mild peril. Nothing terminal, though)
Notes: Standard disclaimer applies. This ended a bit darker than it started but I hope it
still fits the requirements for adventure/romance with A/C, Death, Dog and
ducks... well, not so much the ducks but they are there. Apologies for the
length and the groan-worthy puns. (21,500 +/- 100 Words).(Aziraphale/Crowley, Adam/Pepper). Adam and Pepper go to my old university. Internet cookies if you know which one it is. Happy Holidays!
Aziraphale likes books. He likes the concept of them - thoughts and ideas and stories preserved in ink and paper. He likes the smell and feel of them. He likes how the first time he sees a new book, whether it is old and crumbling from a couple of centuries ago or so new off the printing press that the ink is still wet, it gives him goose bumps. Books are powerful and comforting and he believes that each book contains a small part of the author’s soul.
If you were to tell him of e-books and downloadable PDF files he would look at you in horror.
Books are loyal and truthful and do not tell lies. They have but one story to tell and they stick to it. But while books can tell you their stories they cannot say anything.
They don’t listen either. While they may have been around for decades and centuries as well they don’t know what it’s like.
Sometimes Aziraphale thinks that if it hadn’t been for the Arrangement he would have f- gone mad. He can see his own purpose through Crowley - “I see a wile, I thwart.”
And it does do Aziraphale good to see Crowley - he is so maddeningly, gloriously alive. Sometimes he wishes he could be as alive as that. So completely in the moment. He has his Duty to think of and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way, but he can enjoy his time with Crowley and his guileless smile and easy charm and Oh God that smile could break your heart…
And sometimes Aziraphale wishes … he wishes -
He wishes.
***
It’s his best kept secret, but Crowley doesn’t like Regent’s park. He has nothing against the park itself, but he hates the ducks and the geese and other waterfowl. He doesn’t like how their feathers and droppings cover the paths and the green spaces. He doesn’t like their raucous quacking and honking. And he doesn’t like how aggressive they get when there is the slightest possibility of food from passers-by.
It’s the tourist’s fault, he thinks. The tourists and the children and that damned angel. Throwing them bread and crisps and what not. They had the right idea with Trafalgar Square - fining people who fed the pigeons. No more shitting on old Nelson now.
He actually doesn’t mind Trafalgar Square. What’s wrong with that, he thinks. Why is it always Regent’s Park and the Ritz? Why can’t we go somewhere else for a change? Oh yes, because Aziraphale has to feed the effing ducks. I should refuse to go. Why can’t we do anything that I want to do?
But then he thinks of how amused the Angel always is at the bird’s bluster and at their arrogance and how he looks with his face flushed and eyes sparkling with laughter and despite himself Crowley heads for the Park, all protests unsaid.
Saturday
They didn’t really have a reason to meet up that particular Saturday. They just showed up there, at their usual spot to find Adam waiting for them.
“Why can’t you just use the telephone, like everyone else?” asked Crowley. “Instead of just willing us to show up?”
Aziraphale nudged him, “It’s not that we don’t want to see you. I mean, we’re always glad to help, aren’t we Crowley? It would just be a bit more polite to ask, don’t you think?”
That was Aziraphale for you, never wanting to upset the boy. Always going on about how they shouldn’t be too hard on him, and that he needed compassion and love. If anyone asked for Crowley’s opinion, he would say that what the boy needed was a good kick in the pants.
“It was just quicker this way,” said Adam. “And besides, Crowley would just say no.”
“That isn’t the point,” snapped Crowley. “The point is - oh fuck it, what do you want?”
“A favour,” said Adam, “and I won’t mind if you do say no, I just really hope that you don’t.”
“No,” said Crowley quickly, “No! No and No! Whatever it is, I want no part in it, and neither does the Angel here. And you’re not a kid any more, you’re what? Eighteen now? You don’t need us to sort out whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself in. No, no, no, no, no!”
The boy’s face fell. Aziraphale crumpled. Crowley could practically hear him fold.
“Oh come on Crowley; let’s at least hear him out. Honestly dear, how bad could it be?
***
“Oh let’s hear him out, Crowley. Oh it’s only a little dog, Crowley. It’s only for a little while, Crowley -”
“Now, my dear, don’t be like that. It wasn’t unreasonable. It is his first year at University after all and he’ll be back for Christmas in no time.”
THAT’S WHAT YOU THINK
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Crowley, “Is everyone just going to show up unannounced today? Is this some sort of reunion? All we need is now is Hastur and Ligur and we’re good to go!”
HE WONT BE BACK FOR IT. HE’LL FIND SOME EXCUSE. THERE WILL BE TOO MANY PARTIES AT CHRISTMAS. AT EASTER HE’LL HAVE TO STUDY FOR HIS EXAMS. DURING SUMMER HE’LL WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY OR VOLUNTEER SOMEWHERE TROPICAL WITH A BEACH AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT HE’LL BE BACK AT UNIVERSITY. A DOG IS FOR LIFE.
They all looked down at the animal in question, who whined and hung its head.
“You’re just being pessimistic,” said Aziraphale, although he did sound a tad uncertain. “Adam will be back for this little creature in no time.”
NO TIME? YOU’VE BEEN AROUND LONG ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT ALL ANY OF US HAVE IS TIME. HUMANS DON’T CHANGE. HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF AND ALL THAT YOU CAN BE SURE OF IS TIME.
“I hate to burst your bubble, angel,” drawled Crowley, “But I agree with the man with the scythe. Here’s another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I don’t see - wait - what do you mean by -”
“You agreed to take the mutt. You’re stuck with it.”
“But, but I thought that -”
“I don’t care what you thought. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Look I don’t expect you to bear the whole burden, but surely a couple of days every now and then wouldn’t be too much.”
“Right. And you thought that you’d just agree to whatever and I’d just play along out of the goodness of my non-beating, stone-cold heart? Hello? Demon here.”
“Hrrmph!” Aziraphale puffed up his chest obviously trying to look dignifiedly wounded. “Well I’m sure we can do just well without you, can’t we Dog?” Dog looked up confused as if to say keep me out of this. “Come along, we don’t want to keep the demon waiting.”
He flounced off but if he was going for a sweeping exit the effect was ruined slightly as he tripped over a duck.
Dog looked at Crowley reproachfully and then followed Aziraphale stopping to snap at the offending duck which hissed at him menacingly.
Crowley should have been feeling satisfied at avoiding a bothersome situation and annoying the angel was always amusing and he had certainly managed that. But for some reason he was furious.
“Well I hope you’re happy now,” he spat turning around looking for someone to vent his anger at. Death had gone, as silently as he had arrived and all that was there was a rather bemused looking goose.
“That’s right,” he continued [Crowley, not the goose], “I hope you’re happy, you great dirty bird, sitting there judging me. Don’t you even start!”
And with that he stalked off looking for someone to make miserable.
Monday
“We’re getting on well, aren’t we?” Aziraphale had started talking to the little dog. It was odd -it was almost as if he’d never been without him.
“And Crowley though it would be too much for me. Well we soon show him, won’t we, dear?”
Dog wagged his tail. He wasn’t quite sure of his new master who was nothing like his old one. For one thing Dog was getting a lot less exercise than he was used to, but there was much better food and a lot more of it, and he felt a lot less guilty around this one. This one acted as if wanting to go outside was incredibly clever and he never expected Dog to do any incredible feats like jump over five foot fences because, well, that Collie on the noisy box did. No, Dog wasn’t quite sure of this master, but he thought that he could get used to him.
“You know, I’d always thought of getting a pet,” Aziraphale continued cheerfully. “I mentioned it to Crowley once. He thought I’d be a cat person but I don’t know. Cats are proud and aloof and well, they’re rather selfish, don’t you think? I think Crowley would be much better suited with a cat. It might give him a taste of his own medicine. I suppose you’ll be wanting breakfast.”
Dog barked in agreement and jumped up a couple of times.
“Yes I’ve always seen myself as a dog person. Although-” he paused to look at Dog critically. “I never quite saw myself with a dog like you. Now don’t take this the wrong way dear,” and now Aziraphale turned and began rummaging in a cupboard. “But I always thought I’d have a dog that was a bit more of the helpful kind - you know the type that always knows if you’re sad, rescues people from cave ins and earthquakes and goes after the bad men - like a St Bernard I suppose. “
A whooshing sound. The type that you might expect if a very small dog suddenly grew into a very large one.
Aziraphale frowned slightly. “Did you hear that? Oh My Goodness!”
“Woof!” said Dog in a much deeper voice.
***
Those who knew about the not quite Apocalypse would later note that at
least three of the horsemen, (or bikers, if you want to be picky), appeared to have bounced back with a vengeance. Even Pestilence had been persuaded out of retirement and had stepped up to the challenge admirably with new hospital-born super bugs and bird flue pandemics. Pollution had been heard to complain that there wasn't enough of a challenge. Humans were quite happy to pollute their world without any encouragement. They might worry about the depletion of resources and global warming; in fact almost everyone had serious concerns, but when it came to actually doing something about it no-one was willing to give up their little luxuries. Speaking of global warming, Famine was now working overtime. Those who didn't have to worry about where their next meal was coming from were dying to be thin and those who did... well, they were just dying.
As for War, she was very good at what she did. She enjoyed what she did. She didn't need a reason to work harder, it came naturally to her. But now, well, you do know what they say about a woman scorned.
And Death. He'd always been there. He always would be. He'd seen it all before and he knew he would see it again. Eternity is a very long time.
It doesn't matter what side you're on in a war or what you're fighting for. The bottom line is that people die. And while some of us think that there is no greater thing than to lay down your life for your country, some of us believe that life is the greatest thing. So when certain World Leaders were holding a conference in London to discuss about the way forward in the latest armed skirmish, a largish crowd gathered outside to protest.
Dog should not have liked London. He'd lived in Lower Tadfield for all of his life and was not used to crowds and traffic and noise. He found the chaos strangely familiar and rather enjoyable. What he didn't like much was this new body. He didn't mind the size - but he wasn't loving his big shaggy coat - it was far too hot for that sort of thing. He also seemed to be drooling and slobbering a lot more but he supposed it was down to the heat. And he had a little barrel round his neck for no apparent reason. Not that he knew it was a barrel, he was just aware of something round tucked under his chin where his collar usually was. He couldn't see it, but it was entirely unnecessary and incredibly uncomfortable.
It had been an odd sort of day. He'd been waiting for his breakfast when his master had expressed a preference for this particular form. This had been accompanied by an irresistible urge to be helpful. Now Dog, by nature, wanted to please his master, but this was different and he couldn't quite understand it.
Unfortunately, nothing was going very well.
He'd tried to help old women cross the road but they'd whacked him over the head with their umbrellas or walking stick and one of them had even chased him with her scooter. He'd offered to help some dog walkers control their unruly dogs but they had just stood there wailing about how some vicious monster was trying to eat their poor fluffy and wouldn't someone help.
He'd tried to herd some children off the road and into their pre-school nursery because they could get hurt faffing about outside but half of them ran about screaming and the other half reacted gleefully to see the 'big doggy' and chased him while attempting to get on his back. And having several chubby little hands pulling at your fur really hurt. And then he'd tried to rescue a kitten stuck up a tree...
Let's just say that dogs aren't really built for climbing trees. And the kitten did jump down safely. Shame about the tree, though.
After all of Dog's helpful advances his master got more and more upset and flustered and apologised profusely with much wringing of his hands. Dog didn't think much of this. His old master never apologised. But he did feel a bit bad about how he was disappointing his new master.
His master had tied him to a lamppost and then gone into a red box where he was now talking agitatedly into what Dog knew was called a phone. He wasn't really sure what humans got out of talking into these things but they seemed to do it a lot. He whined impatiently. Why were they waiting? There were people to help in the world.
Even though helping people hadn't been going very well, he was sure that he was getting better at it. He needed to do something bigger - then his master would be happy.
But he wasn't getting anywhere tied to this post. He knew he'd get in trouble going off on his own but really there were people out there that needed helping. He tugged on his leash a couple of times - the added poundage was certainly useful - and broke free. Now he could really sink his teeth in, his master was just slowing him down anyway.
Which is how he ended up by the protest barriers. On a side note, it says a lot about how preoccupied the average Londoner is that no-one had stopped to remark on a St Bernard wandering around unsupervised.
"God, it makes me sick that we elected some of them!"
"I know, I mean they have the moral compass of dung beetle!"
"Hey, hey! No dissing the dung beetles, man! After all what did the dung beetles ever do to you?"
"Heh, that's true, I suppose. I mean this lot are positively evil! Someone should do something about it."
"Well that's why we're here today! Alright, I think they're coming. Everyone ready?"
Most of human chatter washed over Dog, but one thing stood out. There were evil men and someone should do something about it. Well now that he was there he certainly would be doing something about it.
The big black cars were coming up now and Dog had watched enough on the noisy box with his old master to know that big black cars meant trouble. He bared his teeth and got ready. The evil men wouldn't know what bit them.
***
Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley actually did know how to use the internet. He'd always thought that people were very prone to exaggeration. For example, take the term 'roflmao', Crowley had never believed that anything could be so funny that it would reduce him to rolling on the floor laughing his arse off.
Until today.
He didn't even care that he was probably getting leaves and grass on his new leather jacket - and for Crowley, that was saying a lot. The ducks looked on disapprovingly.
"It wasn't that funny," said Aziraphale, rather primly from a bench.
"Oh I beg to differ," countered Crowley raising his head, or at least that was what he was going for. It came out as "Oh -" wheeze "Aaaiiihaha -" gasp - "be - hee - hahaha," before he collapsed again on the grass.
"Crowley!" Aziraphale was getting rather desperate now, "Stop it! It isn't a laughing matter; I don't know what my superiors are going to say! This is an unmitigated disaster! I am never going to live this down. This is worse than anything I've ever done, or not done before, put together!"
"Really?" asked Crowley, who had calmed down by this point and was retrieving his sunglasses, "Worse than that time the world almost ended?"
"Well, no," Aziraphale admitted. "Maybe not that bad. But it's still pretty bad."
"So there was a little bit of a ruckus. A couple of people will be spending a few hours in the cells. No politicians were harmed. All that it's going to cost them is the price of a pair of trousers!"
"One of them had a heart attack!"
"He weighed about 300 pounds! And it was only a little heart attack! It'll be a wake up call!"
"Only a little - ?"
"And you know some good has come out of it. I got a commendation!"
"Crowley!"
"Look,” Crowley sat down next to Aziraphale and slung an arm over his shoulder cheerfully. “You’re overreacting. It was a simple mistake. You just got carried away and miracled the mutt into a canine version of you. It could happen to anyone. Maybe not anyone with an ounce of sense but you know what I mean.”
Aziraphale sniffed. “You know from you, that’s almost comforting.”
“And you have to admit it was a little funny.” Crowley nudged his shoulder playfully.
“It was not!” Despite himself Aziraphale was feeling a little better.
ON THE CONTRARY I FOUND IT VERY AMUSING.
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” Aziraphale said huffily. “And this could be serious. I don’t even remember consciously doing it.”
Crowley stared at Dog, “Well he looks ok now. Maybe you’re getting old. See the thing is, angel cakes, one too many goes a long way.”
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE. THIS IS A PUN, YES? BECAUSE ANGEL CAKES COULD BE A FORM OF ENDEARMENT AND ALSO A TYPE OF CAKE?
Aziraphale snorted. “It wasn’t that a good a joke to begin with.”
“The thing you need to remember about humour, Reaper man, as some dead guy once said, is it is like a frog.”
YOU MEAN HARD TO CATCH AND OCCASIONALLY VENOMOUS?
“Erm no… well yeah, but that’s not what I meant.” said Crowley a bit discomfited. “But if the angel here is spontaneously miracling away when he isn’t meaning to then we could have a teensy problem.”
“You mean I do,” said Aziraphale. “Well I suppose the first thing is to get this little fellow out of the way. I certainly can’t have him around. I wonder if Anathema -”
“She and Newt have gone off for a couple of weeks, to reconnect or something. Although if Newt is involved I don’t know if she wants to be connecting anything.”
“Well maybe Mr. Shadwell.”
There was an uneasy silence. Dog whimpered.
“No, you’re quite right,” Aziraphale said shaking his head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea. Now what do I do?” He looked at Crowley somewhat beseechingly.
“You could always give it back to the boy.”
Aziraphale sighed heavily and looked at his knees. “I suppose there’s nothing else to be done. I do hate to have to let him down. I did promise nothing would go wrong and I feel so awful about having to break my word.” He paused here to quickly glance at Crowley. “Poor thing. Barely two days since he’s gone off - you know he won’t stay if there’s no-one to look after this little creature. I just wish - “
“Enough, already!” Crowley glared at him. “Alright, look. If you promise you’ll have these involuntary spasms checked out and fixed ASAP I suppose I could look after him for a while.”
“Oh my dear! That is wonderful news! I knew I could count on you, Crowley… Oh, I do owe you one.” Aziraphale hugged him enthusiastically.
Crowley stood stiffly until the angel let him go and then took a couple of steps back looking slightly abashed. “Yeah,” he said with a slight tremor in his voice. “Damn straight you owe me one. I think I have somewhere to be now. Somewhere away. Come on, Dog”
He turned abruptly and walked into a lamppost.
Aziraphale stared as Crowley hurriedly righted himself and dragged Dog off on his leash. “Oh dear,” he said. “I wonder if the hug was a bit too much. I just forgot myself, I suppose.”
I THOUGHT IT WAS SKILLFULLY DONE.
“Oh?” said Aziraphale absently, “What?”
But he was alone in the park. Aziraphale sighed and the headed home himself, suddenly feeling very empty.
***
Crowley walked into his flat and surveyed his domain.
“Alright plants, I want you all to listen up. This fine canine specimen is called Dog. He will be taking up residence here. Any one of you that falls below standard shall be given to Dog for his own personal usage for two days and then incinerated. Got that? I’m glad we’ve had this little chat.”
He looked down at Dog and grinned. Dog cocked his head to one side.
“Well Laddie, you may have some uses after all. Now no jumping on the furniture or piddling on the floor and we shouldn’t do so badly.” He paused, “Although, given your track record, that shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, I can’t think how anyone would be able to mess this up worse that Aziraphale did, can you? Nope, didn’t think so. And now I’m talking to a dumb, no offence, animal. Gah! I need a drink.”
You’d think that with being around from before the dawn of time and having seen an awful lot, if not it all, Crowley should have known better to tempt God, Fate and Murphy’s Law.
Some people (or more specifically, in this case, supernatural beings) never learn.
Although, to be fair, he did do slightly better than Aziraphale. By about six hours.
Part II