Chapter Text
Monday morning around 10 am or so
Eden’s Temptation, Marlow
♪ One more try
I didn't know how much I loved you
One more try
Let me put my arms around you
Living all these lonely nights without you
Oh baby, can we give it one more try ♪
With summer lurking around the corner and a wedding in the offing, the sun pushed the dark morning clouds out of its way. When the big ball of fire pointed its first ray of light on a little place called Marlow, it decided that today wouldn’t be a gloomy one.
Furfur entered Eden’s Temptation with a frown on his forehead and a displeased look in his eyes. Behind a turquoise minibus, he heard someone banging on something metal.
Tick. Tick. Bang. Tick. Tick. Bang. Bang! Tick. Bang. Tick. Bang. Bang! BANG!
It sounded more as if the car was being demolished instead of repaired. With a clatter and a loud ringing that went through marrow and bone, the front bumper scattered to the floor. Crowley kicked it aside and kicked it again for good measure. Too occupied with whatever harm he was trying to cause to the minibus, he hadn’t seen his friend enter.
Furfur found Eric, with his arms firmly crossed in front of his chest, leaning against one of the worktables. Which was odd, to say at least. Crowley never backed away from chasing Eric through the garage whenever he found the boy doing nothing. With narrow eyes Eric watched his boss.
‘Who died?’ Furfur asked.
‘Not sure,’ Eric answered. ‘He refuses to speak to me. Even skipped giving me the orders of the day. Just snarled to not get in his way and whatever I decide to do, not to touch his stereo.’ Eric didn’t look at furfur. His eyes didn’t leave Crowley. Another piece of metal hit the floor with a clash. ‘I’ve seen him with a terrible hangover. I’ve seen him in the morning after nights when he had too much pleasure and not enough sleep. Multiple times, actually. I’ve encountered him several times when he was in one of his famous bad moods. You know what I’m talking about. The ones where he starts yelling at his plant to grow better.’
In the background Timmy continued his song.
♪ Living all these nights without you ♪
Eric inhaled deeply and finally turned to face Furfur. ‘I’ve never seen him like this though.’
‘That bad?’
Eric nodded. ‘I even tried to cheer him up with a joke.’
‘A joke?’
‘About an avocado.’
‘I see. Did he laugh?’
Eric shook his head from left to right, one time. Furfur patted the boy’s back. If Eric had tried to cheer his boss up with a bad joke, things were even worse than Furfur had expected. The sad song ended and was replaced by the next one.
‘Is this?’ Furfur didn’t finish his question. A cold shiver crawled its way along his spine like a bunch of spiders, or in this case, like a bunch of crabs.
‘I believe it is,’ Eric confirmed. ‘This is nothing compared to what he was playing when I entered the garage this morning. The Winner Takes It All. On repeat.’
‘ABBA’, Furfur grunted.
‘He threatened to kill me with a wrench if I dared to turn it off.’
‘A wrench? Why a wrench?’
‘He called me a twit for asking that same question. It had something to do with a wrench being dull and it would hurt me more than a screwdriver.’
♪ Going home, I just can't make it all alone
I really should be holdin' you, holdin' you
Lovin' you, lovin' you ♪
‘That’s it! This is where I draw the line!’
Just as the group started with the chorus,
♪ Tragedy
When the feeling's gone and you can't go on
It's tragedy ♪
Furfur turned off the music.
‘Is this?’ Furfur didn’t finish his question. A cold shiver crawled its way along his spine like a bunch of spiders, or in this case, like a bunch of crabs.
‘I believe it is,’ Eric confirmed. ‘This is nothing compared to what he was playing when I entered the garage this morning. The Winner Takes It All. On repeat.’
‘ABBA’, Furfur grunted.
‘He threatened to kill me with a wrench if I dared to turn it off.’
‘A wrench? Why a wrench?’
‘He called me a twit for asking that same question. It had something to do with a wrench being dull and it would hurt me more than a screwdriver.’
♪ Going home, I just can't make it all alone
I really should be holdin' you, holdin' you
Lovin' you, lovin' you ♪
‘That’s it! This is where I draw the line!’
Just as the group started with the chorus,
♪ Tragedy
When the feeling's gone and you can't go on
It's tragedy ♪
Furfur turned off the music.
‘ERIC! I told you to keep your filthy hands away from my stereo!’ Crowley snarled from behind the minibus. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ His voice dropped when he saw the only person who dared to go against is rules in his garage. ‘What are you doing here? Why are you here?’ His snapping increased again with every spoken word. A crocodile would have been jealous That is, if crocodiles lived in the United Kingdom, which they don’t. Furfur was not impressed. ‘I could have forgiven you for playing the Bee Gees. After all, they are a classic. But Crowley.’
‘Whot!?’
‘Steps? Really? You do understand I had to interfere, don’t you?’
‘Bugger off! Get out of my garage!’
Furfur didn’t. ‘What is this anyway? The world’s top 50 of saddest songs? The How-to-make-yourself-even-more-depressed top 100?’
‘Go home to your beloved wife. You are not needed here.’ This is where Crowley was wrong, but it was not the time to point it out. Not yet ‘Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at work?’
‘Yes, actually I should, but because of you, I called in sick.’ Furfur kept his calm while Crowley acted the drama queen. It reminded him of the old days at college. ‘I’m here because Shax told me so. I’m here because yesterday morning you called me. Three times! On a Sunday morning! Crying your eyes out like a little schoolgirl. Going on and on about how you are not worthy for the angel.’
Crowley gritted between his teeth, ‘I wasn’t crying.’ Then he noticed Eric, watching the scene and threw an oil tin in his direction. ‘Take your hands out of your pockets and make yourself useful for once in your pathetic life!’
Eric decided this was as good a time as any to take out the garbage and flee.
‘Anyway,’ Furfur continued as if there had been no interruption whatsoever. ‘At some point I started to worry you’d hit something, another car, a sign, a bicycle, but then I remembered we live in England, and you’re used to driving in heavy rain.’ Crowley shot him a vile look. ‘Then in the afternoon, you called me again. By then you sounded very much as if you had shared your troubles with a nice bottle. Whiskey?’
Crowley opened his mouth to protest, realized that he indeed had finished half a bottle of whiskey on his own and closed his mouth again in a thin line.
‘Me and my wife were on a date! I owed it to her, because she went to that B&B for you when I couldn’t. We were on a date, Crowley! Maze joined us for lunch; I didn’t had time for your drunken drivel.’
‘You were having lunch with Maze? Why? She’s Lucifer’s friend. Why did you take Maze on a date?’
‘I was on a date with Shax, my wife. We were having lunch with Maze. That’s not the same as a date. Please do and try to keep up. And don’t try to change the subject. This is not about Maze, this is about you.’
‘Why on earth would you ask Maze for lunch?’ Crowley nearly spat the question in Furfur’s face.
Mentioning the woman’s name had been a mistake and Furfur knew his friend well enough to know that Crowley wouldn’t drop the subject. Always asking too many questions, that stubborn bastard.
‘We had lunch with her, because Shax likes the woman and wanted to come to some kind of arrangement while she stays in London. Shax wanted to know if I approved of her.’
‘And did you?’
‘Have you seen her?’ Furfur answered the question with another one. ‘Anyway, during the night I got dozens of text messages all saying how he’s an innocent angel and you’re a sinful demon. When I tried to call you back this morning, you didn’t answer your phone. Is it so surprising that I was worried? I’m your fucking friend! Hell, you even worried Shax!’ Furfur paused to let this sink into Crowley’s mind and to prepare him for the next question. He didn't want to give Crowley a chance to pretend he hadn't heard it. ‘Do you love him?’
Crowley ducked back behind the minibus. ‘I’m busy. Car needs to be ready by tomorrow.’
It didn’t.
A silence fell.
‘Do you love him?’
Another silence. Not even some banging.
‘Crowley?’
‘Bugger off. I don’t have time for this!’
‘I’m shocked. Is this the attitude you managed to have Azipharela fall in love with you?’
‘His name is Aziraphale, and he doesn’t love me. How can he? Told him all ‘bout my sugar daddy and the guys I met up with.’
Finally, Furfur started to lose his patience. He didn’t have time for this, and he was losing precious minutes here. ‘Yes, yes, he’s pure, you’re a slut, you’re not worth him blablabla so you told him to screw himself and left the place. You told me!’
‘I didn’t tell him to screw himself. He’s a fucking angel.’ The very idea. ‘He’s too pure to tell him, you know, what you just said.’
‘And you are a harlot who used to fuck around, I know by now. We all know, it’s no secret and may I remind you that you don’t do that anymore. You could if you wanted to. Even at your age, you can enter any pub and come home with a guy on each finger. I see those guys look at you on the rare occasions we go out and have a drink. You do not have to pay to get laid and yet you do. Now, do you know why you do that?’
‘I’m sure you will tell me. Please enlighten me,’ Crowley mocked. He knew where this was leading to, and he didn’t want to hear it. He also knew there was no stopping Furfur.
‘Because those guys you pick up, want your body. One time, more if they can have it. Can’t blame them, but they are not after the person Crowley. And those guys you pay? You know what you get, it’s a paid arrangement and more important, it’s emotionally safe. Nobody gets hurt. And then Mr Fell came along, and he likes you.’ Furfur pointed a finger at Crowley. ‘He likes the person Crowley. Shax has met him, and she has seen it in his eyes, in the way he looks at you.’
‘Ngk,’ Crowley said.
‘And you know it. You bloody well know it! Why do you think you had those evenings in the kitchen? You’re an idiot who says he doesn’t do love. You’re too fucking afraid to admit your feelings. You’re afraid he won’t love you. You’re afraid he does love you, and that, my dear friend, terrifies you.’
‘Doesn’t matter anymore,’ Crowley interrupted. ‘He’s marrying lucifer. Lucifer is a nice guy. Real sweetheart. You know him, I sold him a car once, he’s the owner of that place Lux in London. Lucifer will be good to him. I mean, yeah, he’s a nice guy and I’m not.’
Furfur threw his arms helplessly in the air. ‘Fine! That’s it. We’ve ran out of time. Take off your work overalls and get in the car.’
‘Whot? Why?’
‘Because Shax will kill me if you leave oil stains on the seat of the car.’
Crowley knew there was no point in arguing with Furfur, especially, as he claimed it to be, this was Shax’ idea. And truth to be told, he could use a little distraction.
In the meantime, Eric had returned from taking out the trash, just in time to see his boss taking of his working clothes. He tilted his head to one side and cracked an eyebrow.
‘Don’t you need to be somewhere? Like under a car?’ Crowley had managed to get one foot out of his working trousers and dangerously balanced on one leg. ‘Preferably without a jack?’
In slow motion, Eric walked over to the minibus and bent over the hood. He kept his eyes fixed on his boss, who, to his disappointment, only removed his work overalls and wore tight black jeans underneath it. One couldn’t blame for for hoping to see him in his black boxers. It wouldn’t be the first time. His boss never had been a shy one. Without spilling another word, Crowley threw his dirty clothes at Furfur’s feet. ‘Happy?’
‘Hands,’ Furfur commanded.
Crowley obeyed and washed his hands with great display at the garage sink. He didn’t waste the opportunity to make a big show out of it, covering his lower arms with too much soap and even brushing his nails so hard, his new nail polish came off. Furfur gazed at his watch. This was taking too long.
Crowley shoved his clean hands in Furfur’s face.
‘Good, now get in the car.’
‘You!’ Crowley pointed a freshly cleaned nail in Eric’s direction. The boy was holding a cable for no good reason other than for the sake of pretending he was busy with something. ‘You take care of my garage during my absence. I have no clue where this idiot is taking me or how long I will stay away. I beg you, try not to burn down the place and don’t dare to leave it unattended!’
Furfur had already stepped outside and stood next to his car, holding the door of the passenger’s side open. Crowley didn’t wait for Eric’s reaction. He followed Furfur and got in the car. In the distance he thought he heard Eric calling out, ‘Have fun!’, but he couldn’t be sure. Furfur had already closed his door. Instead of getting out and tell Eric what he thought would be fun, he turned his frustration on his friend.
'You're lucky I was wearing my jeans under my working clothes, otherwise I'd be sitting on this seat in my boxers.' Crowley snickered. 'Actually, you're lucky I decided to wear boxers today. You know how much I prefer to letting it all hang loose. Big fan of setting the snake free, me. How would Shax feel if she knew I sat in her car with bare cheeks?'
Furfur didn't bother to reply. He had heard worse, seen worse and he was on a mission.
When they drove away, Eric dared to peek out of the garage port. He even dared to wave. With his boss leaving the place again, Eric felt bold.
For a while they drove in silence and at a ridiculous low speed (according to Crowley). Furfur kept his eyes on the road. Crowley shot him an ugly glare every two minutes or so. Eventually he couldn't hold himself any longer. Furfur was getting on his nerves, and his friend bloody well knew it.
'Care to tell me why you are kidnapping me? And don’t give me that crap because Shax told you so.'
'I'm giving you a chance to make things right. A chance to do something right for once.'
'How nice. Where are you taking me?'
'London.'
'Why, of all places, London? Are you taking me to a pub?'
Furfur didn’t answer. The reason slowly sneaked up on Crowley. He could no longer ignore it. Today Aziraphale would get married.
In London.
With Lucifer.
They were driving on the M4, in the direction of London.
‘No way! I’m not going to London!’ Crowley didn’t want to be a witness of the wedding. He wanted to stay as far away of it as possible. Alpha Centauri seemed to be a nice place at this time of the year.
‘Yes, you are,’ Furfur contradicted. ‘You're going to stop a wedding.'
'Whot? No. No! Nonono!' Crowley crossed his arms firmly in front of his chest. To his disappointment Furfur had found not only the highway, but also the gas pedal and drove too fast to open the door and jump out of the car.
'I object!'