You Say Bark, I Say Bite

It hadn't been a nice day.

Crowley could feel his insides twisting and turning, he was extremely nervous and he absolutely despised it.

Demons weren't supposed to feel anything.

Beads of sweat began to form on Crowley's forehead as he watched his idiotic husband walk onto a small stage that was lifted off the ground by a platform.

Crowley let out a sigh, he sniffed and looked around at the people inside the tent.

There were too many bodyguards to count, they crowded the small area and kept an eye out for any trouble, they were all dressed in suits with white coats, black ties and black dress pants.

Crowley felt like he was suffocating in this ridiculous outfit, he thought he looked like a fucking clown.

Today was the day, the Big Day.

The day that would set Armageddon into motion.

The Antichrist's eleventh birthday.

Crowley and Aziraphale had been waiting for this moment ever since he was born.

In exactly fifteen minutes, Hell would deliver their own special birthday present to their Master.

The Hellhound.

Crowley knew that as soon as the Antichrist named the dog, the boy would come into his power and Earth would be doomed.

Crowley glanced periodically at his watch, the seconds continued to tick away.

There were about twenty children sitting on the ground, some were staring up at Aziraphale while others were either daydreaming or looking at their phones.

Crowley's eyes fell onto the back of one of the boys' heads- Warlock Dowling- who was currently rolling his eyes at Aziraphale's pathetic attempts to entertain him.

Warlock went by a few other names though, such as the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of the World, the Lord of Darkness and the most famous one, the Antichrist, himself.

Ten more minutes, Crowley thought as he looked up at Aziraphale nervously. Keep it up, angel, you're doing great.

Crowley's gaze didn't leave Aziraphale, the demon bit his lip and inwardly chuckled at his husband.

The angel wore a black suit with a tan undershirt and bow tie, he had drawn a comical mustache on his lips, his blonde curls bounced up and down and the golden wedding ring that squeezed the skin on his plumb finger glimmered in the sunlight.

Crowley looked down at his watch again, but found that his eyes drifted over to his own wedding ring, a small smile crept upon his lips.

Silly angel, Crowley thought as he flinched at the sound of a balloon popping behind him. You and your magic acts, what'll I ever do with you?

"For my next trick," Aziraphale began with a wide smile. "I'll pull a cloth out of my nose!"

"Oh," Crowley muttered under his breath. "This'll be fun."

"When can we eat cake?" one of the kids on the ground whined.

Crowley looked daggers at the child's stupid hairline.

Ungrateful little shit, Crowley thoughts snarled as he let out a small cough. Leave him alone.

"This is soooo boring!" another child chimed in.

"You will get cake soon enough," Aziraphale chuckled nervously as he began to unravel a multicolored cloth from its container. "You can have all the cake you want after you have been thoroughly amazed!"