(Untitled)
Date: September 18, 2000
Setting: Aziraphale's bedroom.
Status: Private - Crowley, Aziraphale (complete)
Summary: Aziraphale is home, and Crowley is suspicious.
( But he'd been knitting! )
Setting: Aziraphale's bedroom.
Status: Private - Crowley, Aziraphale (complete)
Summary: Aziraphale is home, and Crowley is suspicious.
( But he'd been knitting! )
(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.
"I can't stay," he murmured, to the still silence, pausing with his hand on the door handle. "You can't trust me, and this insanity - this jealousy - is unbearable. Goodbye, Crowley. Take care, I shan't be seeing you for a great long while."
The door handle turned and clicked, and the angel took a step and stopped, looking right at Crowley's yellow, beautifully serpentine eyes, completely blocked from view by those expensive sunglasses he favoured, and the angel added:
"You should know I loved him. But I loved you more."
Aziraphale shook his head and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
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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.
He also wanted to say that he hadn't tempted Aziraphale into anything. He'd been so careful not to. So, if the angel were feeling those things, they were of his own doing. If he were blaming Crowley for it, perhaps it was better this way. Maybe he'd be able to check those influences if he were away from him, before they caused his downfall. He didn't like the idea of a righteous Aziraphale, a cold clone of Gabriel walking around and doing his duty, but it was better than the idea of a fallen Aziraphale. At least with the former, one of them could be happy.
Crowley would add, too, if he could, that it wasn't his jealousy that was the problem. He could have dealt with the idea of Wilde in time if they ever sat and talked about things the way they used to, but the angel was so defensive and secretive about it. And his jealousy of John and Ellie and nearly anyone that Crowley talked to was not to be bourne, especially when it led to being spied on and followed. The demon felt his unsurety about the affair with Uriel could be supported, at least, because Aziraphale had demonstrated that he could be with other people and hide the fact. But Crowley had never been in a relationship before. Why would the angel doubt him? Unless it was a way to throw suspicion away from himself.
"You may have loved me once, angel," he sighed aloud to the empty room. "but Adam help me, I still love you."
Too numb to sulk or lash out, Crowley's steps led him out of the room and towards the third floor. With any luck, John would be in his room and have lots and lots of alcohol.
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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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