The angel was a bit out of his depth and he hadn't been subtle enough about it. Passing his watercan from hand to hand and not quite meeting Azrael's gaze as he'd asked where he might find a few prophetic books. They were the demon's specialty, after all, and it usually took quite a bit to fluster Crowell. His mind was usually too busy to pay attention to what lay right in front of him.
He hadn't noticed Azrael's clear disbelief when he'd answered, "What did you want them for?"
With, "Oh, y'know, bit o'... bit o'light reading."
Crowell would rather have his nose in flowers than pages. Azrael wasn't an idiot. So he'd given him the books and sighed over him falling for a Nazi's lies and sighed even more when he'd seen him walking into a church.
Of course it had to be a bloody church. He didn't immediately walk in, gearing himself up for the pain, and when he finally did step in, the ridiculous angel had guns aimed at him. It took everything in him not to hop down the aisle, but he took a great deal of pride in his self-control.
"Mr. Azrael Fell," one of the Nazi's noted. "Your reputation precedes you."
"What brings you here?" the other asked, his accent struggling to find a place in the world.
"My books, actually. I'll be needing those back."
"Your last name's Fell now?"
"Yes." He smiled at Crowell, his rich red hair burning in the candlelight. He was awfully beautiful for an angel. "Bit of a joke. Don't like it?"
"No, I do. Very funny. How did you know...?"
"I know things. Now let's have the books back. We haven't got all night." He checked his watch. "Actually, we've only got... ooh... Sixty seconds or so before a bomb falls here."
"A bomb?" one of the Nazis demanded. "They're all going to be falling elsewhere tonight."
"Yes, and it'll take some sort of last-second demonic miracle to adjust course, wouldn't it? And a different sort for my friend and I to survive."
"A different sort," Crowell replied. But then his mind took one of its leaps and his eyes narrowed. Like the honey Azrael liked in his tea. The suspicion in them made him smile. "How do they know you anyway? Are they working for you?"
"Half-witted Nazi spies?" Azrael straightened his shoulders. "I should say not. I have much better people to interact with."
"Do you? Care to name them?"
"Kill them both. They are very irritating," a Nazi requested before Azrael could reply, picking up the satchel of books.
Between that irritation and the burning of his feet, Azrael lifted a miracle up from below and felt a bomb begin to fall. Crowell winced, but they were both fine. Every bit of stone from the church miraculously missed them.
Azrael brushed some dust from his shoulder and straightened his jacket.
"Thank you," Crowell said, lips curving when Azrael glared at him. "I know, I know. Demon saving an angel, can't happen, blah blah blah."
"No, it can't. And I didn't save you. I saved my..." Oh, fuck. So much for that cover. "My books! Bollocks, I completely forgot about the damn books! Never should've loaned them to you. I knew-"
He stopped, distracted by movement. Crowell wrenched the satchel out of a hand sticking out from the rubble. He brushed it off and held it out with a smile. "Here. Sorry I lied about why I wanted them."
Azrael took the bag mutely and Crowell's smile brightened as he picked his way through rubble and unharmed headstones. "Come on," he continued. "I've got my car. Give you a lift home."
The demon didn't move right away, still staring after him. Love had always been his biggest vice. Long ago, he'd convinced himself that he never would've fallen at all had Crowell been created before him. His love would've kept him up above and all of Crowell's questions would've sent him right down.
But he'd been very careful not to let that vice out anywhere near the angel. Nope. No love there. Maybe a shaky sort of friendship if need be, but never more than that. Crowell was a means to an end, a patsy Azrael could play when there was a temptation he wasn't in the mood to perform. Except...
Hell (or Heaven), who was he kidding?
"Azrael?"
"Coming," he finally said, quickly following after the angel.
