Some Lurk It Hot (The Revelations Remix)
Crowley brushed his hand down the front of his suit one last time, checking for dust before he got in the car. He didn't like getting the car dusty, and the car didn't like it very much either. He turned the key in the ignition, listening as the engine roared into life. Technically, of course, he didn't need to use a key. He didn't even need to steer, or put petrol in the tank, or use the brake. He did it because he could, and because he liked roaring along with one hand on the steering wheel and one hanging out the window. It made others nervous, especially if said others weren't used to riding in cars at all, and even more so if he was wearing the sunglasses that made him look like he couldn’t see at all. That was fun.
Sometimes, he thought, driving along, he didn't understand why so many demons refused to embrace technology. There were so many wonderfully evil things that could be done with cars and mobiles and radios. The possibilities were endless. He spent the rest of the drive cheerily contemplating his own personal successes along those lines and was actually in a rather pleasant mood when he pulled up at the cemetery where Hastur and Ligur were waiting. He was late, naturally, and the two Dukes of Hell were thoroughly annoyed. That helped buoy Crowley's mood as well.
Shame you didn't get points for pissing off other demons. Maybe he'd suggest that in his next report. Sort of an inter-office competition type thing.
"Hi," he said cheerily, waving a little. "Long time no see." He got a bit of a grin out of leaning down -- way, way down -- to greet Ligur. Short little thing, he was, and that mac didn't help things either, just made him look shorter and a bit squatty. Hastur made up for it, though, with his dark loomy-gloomy tallness. The two made a good pair. And, Crowley was suddenly reminded, neither of them had any sort of a sense of humour. Tempted a priest, indeed. How old-fashioned could you get? No, neither Hastur nor Ligur was the type to understand the appeal of tying up a four-lane highway for hours at a time. Their loss, really.
"Well, it was certainly great seeing you all again," Crowley said. "I'll just be heading off, then." There was some sort of vibe hanging about the two dukes… Crowley wasn't sure what it was, but he'd been creating bad vibes for long enough to know when something did not bode well for him. The faster he left, the better.
"Wait," Hastur rumbled. Crowley winced. Bugger.
He turned to see Hastur's face split in what he was sure the other demon considered a smile. It was almost enough to turn Crowley's stomach, given the level of tension he was feeling.
"Got somethin' for ya," Hastur said, pointing to a nearby tombstone with a basket on top of it. Crowley hadn't paid much attention to it before, but now that he looked at it, he realized that it was moving. Kicking. His heart sank -- well, he didn't actually have a heart, but it certainly felt as if he had one and it had currently fallen down into his shoes.
"A-already?" he squeaked.
Ligur peered up at him, smirking nastily. "Already," he replied.
"But -- this really isn't --" Crowley tried.
"Oh, come now, Crowley," Hastur said. "This is a great honour, don't you know? I'm sure that Ligur here would give his right arm for the chance -- isn't that right, Ligur?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure," Ligur said.
"Now, just sign here -- your real name, Crowley -- there we go." Hasturn dumped the basket into Crowley's arms. The damn thing was heavy, startling Crowley; he clutched it to his chest. This left him completely unprotected, and the way that Hastur turned to Ligur was unnerving. "Now, Ligur -- what d'you fancy?"
Crowley was anticipating some sort of gang attack on him. He'd been annoying them for centuries, and they'd just dropped a huge pile of responsibility in his lap; he wouldn't be able to get them back, and they knew it. He couldn't help it; he shut his eyes and shrank back a little.
He didn't feel any burning pain, and after a minute, he opened one eye slightly -- then the both popped open and he made a very undignified hissing noise. He had been entirely unprepared for the sight of two Dukes of Hell snogging madly in front of him.
"Um, I'll just -- be going, then," he said quietly, sneaking away. "Don't want to bother you -- don't mind me -- ciao!"
Crowley jumped into the car and shot off without bothering with the ignition. He almost wasn't sure what he'd just seen. He chanced a look in the rearview; yes indeed, that had been exactly what he'd thought. Well, now, imagine that. He couldn't wait to tell Azriphale about this.
As if on cue, the bundle in the backseat began wailing loudly. Crowley had other things to think about.