Aziraphale jumped at Crowley's voice, dropping the parcel. "No," he said quickly, since he wasn't hiding it, only from Uriel and what was the likelihood of her in their room? Still. He silently damned himself* (half for dropping the gifts, and half for freezing like he had, but it was pink tartan knit, and he'd never live down the mocking if he had shown Crowley it), and knelt to pick them back up, looking for one of the flowered socks and not up at Crowley.
Aziraphale's strong reaction and inability to look at him seemed to hint that Loki might actually have been telling the truth. Crowley crossed his arms over his chest and his voice went steely.
"Want to try that again? Or would you rather be an angel caught in a lie?"
"Hardly." Aziraphale found the sock and stood up, trying to put them all into the bag, at the very least. "It's only a gift, that's all; you oughtn't to make that face at me about it. Well, several gifts, but that's rather besides the point. I have an obligatio-" The angel shook his head, sighing pointedly as he caught the look and tone in full force. "Oh, come off it, don't be silly."
An obligation...? Crowley's eyebrows knitted angrily.
"It's not a gift for me, so I don't know why you'd need to hide it." He tapped his foot impatiently. "These are our rooms. No one else comes in here. ...Or do they?"
"Crowley," Aziraphale began, feeling a headache start, "don't be ridiculous. These rooms are embarassing enough in their decor that we don't really need anyone to witness it. Well, not that my room is so terrible, really... John, Ellie, and Gabriel are the only ones who have been in here, except possibly that nice... was it that dear Wensleydale?" He shook his head, confusion on his features. "But we do have visitors, don't we? Or perhaps it is only me.
"Then why are you hiding shit in here, Aziraphale," demanded Crowley, "if no one but you and I ever come in? You could put it in the middle of the floor and feel secure that no one else will see it. Or are you afraid that John, Ellie, and Gabriel are going to run off and tell Ur..." he choked on the name, "...what you got for her? No, I think you're hiding it from me. And if you tell me that I'm being silly or ridiculous one more time, I can't vouch for what I'll do." His hands were clenched in angry fists by his sides as he waited for an acceptable answer. Crowley wanted one, really. He'd have accepted nearly anything, so desperate was he for it to not be true, but the angel hadn't offered any explanations; had only tried to distract him.
There was a stunned moment where Aziraphale just stared at the demon, making fish-out-of-water expressions.
And then, equal indignation broke out, and an ugly, mottled blush patterned out over Aziraphale's fair skin. "How dare- why? Why do you ask me such things? It's only-" The angel waved the bag, struggling to find words. "I wanted to provide-"
He couldn't finish. The unreasonable - was that jealousy? - unexplained anger at innocent activities of his, duties of being an angel, friends of his... First sulking, then sniping, and then with the outburst, and all without an explanation.
Not this time. They couldn't continue if Crowley didn't trust him.
Now Aziraphale was getting angry and defensive? No, 'my dear, I have no idea what you're talking about'? Angels couldn't lie, but they got past that by not saying anything at all. His reaction were very nearly confirmation. Crowley was deeply hurt, and as always when he was hurt, he lashed out.
"How dare I? How dare I? I have every right to know, damn it. I think you owe me that much at least. You have no idea what I went through. And why? I should be asking you the same question. I knew you had no taste, but I didn't think even you'd stoop so low. Couldn't even wait two fucking weeks..."
Because Crowley had done the math and figured that Uriel must have gotten pregnant during the two weeks that Aziraphale was in Heaven.* Then he came back early with a much nicer body. It couldn't have been coincidence.
*His calculations were off by about a month, though it wasn't entirely his fault. The baby looked further along than it was because of its size in comparison to Uriel's.
Now, Aziraphale wasn't stupid. It was possible sometimes for him to be thick, but not this much. He wasn't quite sure what Crowley was on about, but going around making flawed accusations and shouting about things Aziraphale didn't have a clue about...
"What do you mean, what you went through? You didn't have to return home," he replied loudly, angrily, the shadow of a haggard look edging about his eyes when he mentioned the last. "Do you think that was easy? I know, I know you and John, and you without me, but then... two weeks was so much longer Up There!"
But this wasn't what Crowley was upset over. No, not at all, and it hit the angel just as he opened his mouth again, making him take a step back and pause as his face changed from one of confused indignation to shaking disbelief.
"Are you- are you upset over the baby? You think it's mine?!" Aziraphale asked in disbelief, blond eyebrows sky-high. "You think so little of me as to just- as to just sleep with another? To sleep with a woman? An angel?"
"Right," snapped Crowley. "Like it was so difficult to hang around in Paradise with all your little angel friends, basking in the Light."
Under any other circumstance, Crowley would be amused at how horrified Aziraphale was at being accused of sleeping with a woman and/or another angel. But this wasn't any other circumstance.
"You know, I've heard rumours to that effect. And I've seen you two laughing and whispering together - holding hands - now you're buying baby clothes... You've shown no compunction about fucking a human, I don't see why'd you'd blanch at knocking up an archangel."
He heard it. And it was a good question. Crowley had been betrayed so many times by so many people that he probably couldn't trust anyone entirely anymore. Perhaps it was easier to sabotage his relationships than it was to get hurt again
( ... )
"It wasn't any of your business! Over a hundred years ago we didn't have this, we weren't- well. We're not now, either, are we."
(It was hardly a question.)
"Adultery?!" and Aziraphale was the one nearly hissing in outrage, spitting in such anger. "You, you tempt me to greed, envy by your own admission, wrath, gluttony, and lust - to say the least! - and then you accuse me of not being a good angel by committing adultery? How you can possibly..."
Aziraphale turned away from Crowley, and, gift bag, Buggre Alle This Bible (singed), and long-forgotten tartan cane in hand, walked towards the door
( ... )
Crowley watched him go, expression completely blank. There were so many things that had been left unsaid as there always were...
The demon wanted to say that a hundred years ago they did have this, or at least he did, and watching Aziraphale with Wilde had been very nearly the hardest thing he'd ever done. He'd known it wouldn't end well, knew the angel would get hurt, and there hadn't been a damn thing he could do about it
( ... )
Aziraphale slowed his stride down the third floor halls, beginning to tremble, and stopped, bracing himself against the wall. He pressed a hand against his face, unutterably grateful that no one was there to see him.
There were things he hadn't said, as well; upset over the affair at the barbecue, other jealousies from Crowley that he'd let go. They'd both strikes against them, but all were innocently gained, and Aziraphale had hoped Crowley knew that. But as it was...
The angel's breath hitched, and he held still a moment, supported by the rich wood panels of the hall.
He'd lied.
He still loved Crowley.
But he also had things to do, now. Aziraphale took another deep breath, relieved to see that it was steadier, and pulled himself together. He stepped away and picked up his stride again, heading to John's room.
"Angel, you won't believe what Loki just... said..." he stopped and stared. "Is... is that baby stuff that you're hiding?"
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*Er, not literally.
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"Want to try that again? Or would you rather be an angel caught in a lie?"
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"It's not a gift for me, so I don't know why you'd need to hide it." He tapped his foot impatiently. "These are our rooms. No one else comes in here. ...Or do they?"
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"Regardless. What does it matter if they do?"
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And then, equal indignation broke out, and an ugly, mottled blush patterned out over Aziraphale's fair skin. "How dare- why? Why do you ask me such things? It's only-" The angel waved the bag, struggling to find words. "I wanted to provide-"
He couldn't finish. The unreasonable - was that jealousy? - unexplained anger at innocent activities of his, duties of being an angel, friends of his... First sulking, then sniping, and then with the outburst, and all without an explanation.
Not this time. They couldn't continue if Crowley didn't trust him.
Aziraphale trusted Crowley. But the reverse...
"Why?"
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"How dare I? How dare I? I have every right to know, damn it. I think you owe me that much at least. You have no idea what I went through. And why? I should be asking you the same question. I knew you had no taste, but I didn't think even you'd stoop so low. Couldn't even wait two fucking weeks..."
Because Crowley had done the math and figured that Uriel must have gotten pregnant during the two weeks that Aziraphale was in Heaven.* Then he came back early with a much nicer body. It couldn't have been coincidence.
*His calculations were off by about a month, though it wasn't entirely his fault. The baby looked further along than it was because of its size in comparison to Uriel's.
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"What do you mean, what you went through? You didn't have to return home," he replied loudly, angrily, the shadow of a haggard look edging about his eyes when he mentioned the last. "Do you think that was easy? I know, I know you and John, and you without me, but then... two weeks was so much longer Up There!"
But this wasn't what Crowley was upset over. No, not at all, and it hit the angel just as he opened his mouth again, making him take a step back and pause as his face changed from one of confused indignation to shaking disbelief.
"Are you- are you upset over the baby? You think it's mine?!" Aziraphale asked in disbelief, blond eyebrows sky-high. "You think so little of me as to just- as to just sleep with another? To sleep with a woman? An angel?"
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Under any other circumstance, Crowley would be amused at how horrified Aziraphale was at being accused of sleeping with a woman and/or another angel. But this wasn't any other circumstance.
"You know, I've heard rumours to that effect. And I've seen you two laughing and whispering together - holding hands - now you're buying baby clothes... You've shown no compunction about fucking a human, I don't see why'd you'd blanch at knocking up an archangel."
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(It was hardly a question.)
"Adultery?!" and Aziraphale was the one nearly hissing in outrage, spitting in such anger. "You, you tempt me to greed, envy by your own admission, wrath, gluttony, and lust - to say the least! - and then you accuse me of not being a good angel by committing adultery? How you can possibly..."
Aziraphale turned away from Crowley, and, gift bag, Buggre Alle This Bible (singed), and long-forgotten tartan cane in hand, walked towards the door ( ... )
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The demon wanted to say that a hundred years ago they did have this, or at least he did, and watching Aziraphale with Wilde had been very nearly the hardest thing he'd ever done. He'd known it wouldn't end well, knew the angel would get hurt, and there hadn't been a damn thing he could do about it ( ... )
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He'd lied he'd lied he'd lied he'd lied.
Aziraphale slowed his stride down the third floor halls, beginning to tremble, and stopped, bracing himself against the wall. He pressed a hand against his face, unutterably grateful that no one was there to see him.
There were things he hadn't said, as well; upset over the affair at the barbecue, other jealousies from Crowley that he'd let go. They'd both strikes against them, but all were innocently gained, and Aziraphale had hoped Crowley knew that. But as it was...
The angel's breath hitched, and he held still a moment, supported by the rich wood panels of the hall.
He'd lied.
He still loved Crowley.
But he also had things to do, now. Aziraphale took another deep breath, relieved to see that it was steadier, and pulled himself together. He stepped away and picked up his stride again, heading to John's room.
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