#protective crowley
(Inspired by this postby@worse0mens!)
“Ladies first,” Crowley said chivalrously.
Anathema rolled the die. “Five.”
“Hmm.” Aziraphale scanned the Tube map. “Not the best start, but we’ll catch up, my dear, don’t worry. Right. Newton, your roll.”
Newt looked at Crowley nervously, but Crowley and Aziraphale were pointing their fingers at each other, fingertips an inch apart.
“Go on, roll!” Crowley snapped. Aziraphale was frowning.
“Three.”
“Yes! Aha!” Newt and Anathema’s ears popped as Aziraphale groaned, and something snapped in the air between them. “Okay. We’re going to start at Archway.”
“Not allowed,” Aziraphale instantly countered. “You can’t start on the Northern Line, don’t be completely absurd.”
“Fine. Blackhorse Road.”
“You have to start at a station with wheelchair access.”
“Then you have to start at one of the inaccessible ones.”
“No.”
“Fair’s fair, angel. If I have to abide by Heaven’s rules you have to abide by Hell’s.”
“Fine,” Aziraphale gritted out. “We’ll take Cockfosters.”
“I fucking bet you will,” said Crowley with a sleazy grin. “Right. We’ll take Tottenham Hale.”
“What are the rules of this again?” Anathema asked.
Crowley sighed theatrically. “We start out at two different Tube stations at noon. You can only start when the BBC’s pips are over.”
“But Crowley’s not allowed to go through any station that has the letters s and t together in them.”
“Street? Or Saint?”
“Saint,” Crowley said. “But back in 1979 Aziraphale argued that one station was named after ‘St. Anmore’ and so now it’s any station with an ‘st’. And he’s not allowed to go on the Central line-”
“Because it’s red. And Crowley obviously can’t go through Angel.”
“While if Aziraphale goes through Angel or any station named after a Saint whom he met, Aziraphale, he can send me to a station of his choosing as long as it’s in the same zone I started in.”
“Now, Crowley can go through Blackfriars, because of his commendation.”
Anathema was trying to keep notes. “Commendation?”
“For the Spanish Inquisition. Blackfriars are Dominicans, and the Dominicans ran the Inquisition.”
Anathema was looking at Crowley with fury. “You did the Spanish Inquisition?”
“No!” Crowley looked offended. “I just got a commendation for it. So, yeah, if I go through Blackfriars, I’m allowed to send Aziraphale to the final stop of my choosing.”
“If we’re both on the Piccadilly Line at the same time we have to go to Knightsbridge and duel. Whoever loses has to go to Heathrow, round the Terminals, and then come back. Oh, and Crowley can’t go through Temple, obviously. Ditto Bow Church, Westminster, and Whitechapel.”
“And Aziraphale isn’t allowed to get on or off a train which doesn’t have wheelchair access, unless it’s marked on the map with a red cross, and unless he has to start under Hell’s Rules when the starting station only is exempt.”
“Oh, and Crowley has advantage at any station to do with the monarchy or money, like Bank or East India, so if he gets off in one of those stations and I’m on the same line, he can send me to a station on a connecting line, as long as he puts me down in the same zone.”
“What about Montague’s 2nd revision, eh?” Newt was grinning. “And, er, green rules, in light of the general election? Pedestrian precincts count double and bus lanes are wild?”
Crowley stared at him. “… what the fuck are you on about?”
“Oh, come on,” Newt said. “It’s Mornington Crescent. From I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue. Radio 4? Pretending you have to get to Mornington Crescent first, wind up the American by making up stupid rules.”
The angel and the demon were silent for a long moment. “Our rules aren’t stupid,” Aziraphale said. His voice was soft with hurt.
“Oh, great! Great, we invite you to Games Day, and you hurt the angel’s feelings!” Crowley shouted. “The aim’s to get back to the bookshop, youmoron!”
“Don’t, my dear, it’s all right. I suppose… I suppose when you say them all at once like that it does all sound a bit silly.”
“No, no,” Newt said. “No, shit, no, sorry! I thought it was- There’s a game on Radio 4, I thought you were- No, I mean, we’d love to play. It’s really kind of you. Sorry, right, let me write down all the rules and then we’ll set off for the starting points…”
Aziraphale sniffed and reached for a biscuit. Crowley rubbed his back, glaring daggers at Newt as he and Anathema tried to find a pen between them. “Beautifully done,” he whispered.
“Thankyou, darling.”
