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"AN ANGEL ONCE"
The sound of a phone ringing stirred Amelia from her sleep. A soft groan escaped her lips and her eyes fluttered open, immediately being greeted with the sunlight that poured through the window. Aziraphale took his glasses off and reached for the phone.
"It's me," A husky voice spoke from the other side. Crowley. "Meet me at the third alternative rendezvous." Amelia slowly sat upright on the dusty couch—catching a small glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was now wearing a red dress that fit her nicely. There was a slit down the middle which exposed her chest. It was paired with gold heels, and her long brown hair was straightened.
"Is that the old bandstand, the number 19 bus, or the British Museum Cafe?" Aziraphale questioned.
"The bandstand. I'll be there in 15 minutes," Crowley said before hanging up. Aziraphale sat the phone down and sighed softly.
"That was Crowley, right?" The angel turned to see that Amelia was now awake.
"Good morning, dear," He said whilst shutting a thick green book and standing from his chair. "Oh, and yes. Yes, that was Crowley."
Amelia stood up and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, "Y'all are meeting somewhere?" Aziraphale moved around his desk and quickly made his way towards the mirror.
"Uh, yes," He told her whilst fixing his cream colored coat. "I'll be back in a jif." He moved to open the door—but stopped as soon as he heard her voice.
"Wait—I'll just come with you," Amelia said, starting to follow after him.
Aziraphale shook his head lightly, "I don't think that would be a good idea." Amelia furrowed her eyebrows.
"Why?"
It was his turn to look confused, "Well, aren't you upset with him?" At first she didn't know what he was talking about—but then she remembered. A shiver trailed down her spine as she replayed the sound of Crowley's venomous words.
"I don't care about you—and I most certainly do not care about your protection."
Her facial expression suddenly changed and she spoke with confidence, "I'm coming with you."
The angel let out a soft sigh, "Oh, alright. I suppose we should get going." The two walked out into the busy streets of London. The weather was cool and windy, making goosebumps form all over her skin. The angel called over a taxi, and they both hopped in.
—
Amelia stepped onto the wet street and smoothed her dress out. Aziraphale shut the door behind her.
"It's this way, dear." They walked across the dirt path which led to an open area. A bandstand rested in the middle of the field, but to Amelia—she recognized it as a gazebo. Standing there with his hands inside his pockets was non other than the serpent himself, Crowley. His yellow eyes followed the girl as she walked up the wooden steps.
"Well?" Crowley's voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Any news?" The demon was trying to keep his eyes off of her, but he simply just couldn't. With her long hair swaying in the cool wind, her gorgeous brown eyes that seemed to make his own heart race. Her figure looked lovely, the dress showing off every curve she possessed perfectly.
"Um..." Aziraphale started hesitantly, "What—What kind of news would that be?" He nervously fiddled with his hands.
"Well, have you found the missing Antichrist's name, address and shoe size yet?" The angel furrowed his eyebrows slightly.
"His shoe size? Why—Why would I have his shoe size?"
Crowley shook his head, "It's a joke." His eyes flickered towards Amelia. "I've got nothing either." Behind his dark shades, she could feel his gaze boring into her.
"It's the Great Plan, Crowley."
"Yeah, for the record," Crowley started to pace around and looked towards the sky, "Great pustulant mangled bullocks to the Great blasted plan!" Amelia didn't know why he was shouting, nor who he was shouting at—Perhaps God.
"May you be forgiven," Aziraphale told him.
Crowley scoffed, "I won't be forgiven. Not ever. That's part of a demons job description." He stopped pacing, "Unforgivable. That's what I am." Amelia's heart suddenly twinged at his words. She didn't think he was unforgivable.
"You were an angel once," Aziraphale reminded him. Amelia furrowed her eyebrows at this. Crowley—an angel? Were they even thinking of the same demon?
