❝ 𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑙 and 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒 shall reunite once more when ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 meets 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒.❞
- 𝑨𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝑵𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓
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Sunny, that evening was. And quiet, and peaceful. The world hadn't known it was the 11th birthday of a single boy who was to end all of their lives. The birds had sung. The sun had shined; not a single cloud in the sky, as a 1926 black Bentley rode down the street sending those same birds flying. Best of Queen blasted from it as a particular angel held onto his seat, scared for his life.
"What is it, angel? You said we had to rush." the demon teased him as the other looked at him frightened for his dear life.
"You know this is not what I meant! I never mean this!" he protested, already seeing the city's smoke in the distance. They did arrive rather quickly. "The plan is, you go inside and apologize. Maybe give her something like flowers or...Or.. Whatever witches lik-"
"WE are going inside! You're not leaving me alone to get killed!" Crowley had a vivid memory of floating knives being thrown right at his face.
"Fine! We go inside and ask her for help." Aziraphale had feared Ophelia a bit more thanks to the recent talking they did. He too didn't think he had time to do all the paperwork if she killed them.
"What if she refuses to help us?" Crowley had wondered. One part of him was sure the witch wasn't going to help them so easily.
"I don't know. Use some of your charm. It seemed to work the first time." Aziraphale didn't consider it might be so difficult to make the witch help them. He kind of thought she was all in for saving the world.
"Don't think she'll fall for it this time." Crowley seemed to look very distant when he spoke of Ophelia, keeping his eyes at the road which he rarely did, saying only what he was asked about and keeping his mouth shut for longer periods of times.
"What even happened between the two of you?" Aziraphale never got to hear what had happened; they were too busy making sure Warlock wouldn't destroy Earth by 11, so they never got to talk about it.
"Oh, nothing really. Didn't even like her to be precise." Crowley once again struggled with his words, not wanting to recall all that happened that day.
"No, you loved her." Aziraphale pointed out proudly, wanting to show him, he wasn't rotten to the core like he said.
"Not true. Never even liked her. Not even a little bit." Crowley seemed to be lying only to himself as he tried to keep a straight face, not wanting to burst into anger at the angel.
