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The music chimed in the background. A soft, slow, and delicate melody gliding through the air. Pure white table cloths and walls made this place ever so fitting for the two angels sitting across from each other on one of these tables.
"Crowley-?!"
You blurt out, shocked at Aziraphale's request. Your drink is almost leaping out of its cup.
"If it's not too much work, I do hope you understand the lengths we have to go through."
His voice is soft, calm, and apologetic. That's enough to convince you to do this for him. You had spent years on earth monitoring a vast number of problems. Over time you had run into Azirephale, on purpose and every time Crowley was near you had always been quick to dash out of there. It really was just a fear of demons. After the war you were terrified. Meaning, you had never really seen how he looked nowadays. You'd assumed his hair was still ginger but that was all.
"Yes... I will. I owe you for the ball in 1850."
You notice his perk in energy. He places his white tea cup down on the smooth table.
"Oh, thank you ever so much. I couldn't do it without you."
You nodded awkwardly, you didn't actually want to do this. If you weren't a rule follower you would have been banished to hell by now because of the constant thoughts of falling into temptation.
Going against the almighty, running away, and living your life to the fullest. Instead you're stuck helping anyone but yourself on earth.
"No, thank you for trusting me with this information, and mission."
_______________________________________
This was not okay.
You paced around your shop of instruments. Music from the 60s is playing from speakers. Downtown, by Petula Clark not fitting to how you were feeling at all.
Your breathing is quick and your thoughts are scattered. Aziraphale's instructions were to meet Crowley at The Victoria Battersea at 6:30 pm. You beleived it was already 6:20 pm and you had not stepped a foot out the door. The fear had constantly been with you so you were stuck by your door. It had been a good 20 minutes of you being hesitant.
Standing by the door. Walking away and mumbling to yourself. Going back to the door and repeating the process.
This continued until you turned around and saw a man leaning on the circular table placed in the centre of your shop.
His hair is ginger, and his eyes were indescribable. Probably because they were covered by pitch black sunglasses.
"You... you demon."
You mumble picking up a clarinet, one of your least favourite instruments. Expensive and dozens of pieces. You stepped closer to the table. Standing face to face with one of your fears you hadn't gotten over in around 6,000 years. It was now stood at the other side of your table.
"It's Crowley."
"I know who you are, do you beleive I am stupid?"
"No, no.. uh.. I'm sure you are an intelligent angel, seeing you're going to use a clarinet to defend yourself."
Your eyes glance down at the Clarinet and back up at Crowley. While letting out a sigh you let go of the Clarinet. It dumps itself striaght onto the floor and miniature pieces snap. Nothing major. A miracle.
"I was going to head to the Victoria Batter sea, just now."
"At eight o'clock When the agreed upon time was half six?"
He spoke slowly while the k and x were more pronounced. You had lost track of time, over all that worrying, and now a Demon was in your place of work and comfort.
"I must have lost track of time. I suppose we can meet tommorow then. Go on, shoo. Out of my shop. I'm closed."
You had opened the door but he still didn't seem to leave. He just hummed.
"Hmm... I don't think I will, Angel."
"My name is [NAME]."
"Oh is it? I didn't care enough to learn it."
Now he was playing with you. Trying to get a reaction and it was working. Your arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
"Dirty little-"
The Clarinet is back into your hand and thrown over at Crowley's head. To your luck, you miss. You wouldn't want to deal with the paper work.
"It will take a lot more than a Clarinet to get rid of me."