"Please stay calm, no one fight! This is all very ridiculous." Oh no, Crowley had outted the ring and now Dallen knew. This would not be a very pleasant ride home, he knew that much. Aziraphale slipped out from where Crowley had him cornered and backed up very far from both men, trying to find a way to make this less of a total mess.
"Dallen, this is ... this is Crowley. An old friend. Crowley, this is--" He trailed off. Could he try friend for Crowley? Would it work? Probably not but he was trying. He gulped and eyed the doorway. "We should be leaving..."
Who was even we any more? He should just leave. This was too much, all too much. He moved to leave, maybe he could just run all the way back to the flat and hide in the closet. He had done it before, irony aside.
"Crowley? His name is Crowley?" Like the name Aziraphale had said in his sleep more than once? The one they had fought over before, unseen. And now that Dallen saw him, he was far from happy. Some rock-star looking man with red hair, basically looking like the devil's minion? And now he was getting his sunglasses back on, as if anyone who wasn't a criminal would wear those inside. "I don't know you, Mr Crowley, but I insist you stay far away from Aziraphale and me."
"I don't want to go anywhere near you, fucking prick. But you can't keep me from him. We're old friends, didn't you hear?" Crowley mocked himself, them, the whole damn situation. "Aziraphale, are you kidding me with this clown?"
"Rather a clown than whatever you are supposed to be! What is that look, a mafia?" He knew little about organised crime, he wasn't allowed to consume media about that.
"We met during the mission. Please, Crowley, it's best you don't." For the sake of his sanity, he wanted to not do this any more. He reached forward and held onto Dallen, holding his forearm and trying to pull him but he didn't really have much strength for that. "Darling, please. Let's leave."
He didn't want to upset him. Then it would be a disaster. Especially now he knew, especially now he had met Crowley, knew of him and knew what the ring meant.
With one last tug, Aziraphale tried his best to get to the door, not wanting to make this a bigger scene. "Lovely party, Anthema, we must be going!"
"We're going to talk about this," Dallen hissed to Aziraphale, but he let himself be pulled along, even sliding an arm around Aziraphale possessively.
Something about it all didn't sit well with Crowley. Nothing about it did. "Don't talk to him like that!"
"I'll talk to him any way I want. Go pray in a church, heathen." Not the slam-dunk Dallen thought it was, but he didn't realise that, he was prepared to walk out of there with his head held high.
Anathema felt bad, she truly did, but all she could do was mouth a 'sorry' to Aziraphale, there was no time for lengthy apologies or explanations. She pulled the bedroom door closed hastily, Crowley's voice ringing through, but muffled.
"Damn you, Aziraphale!" Anathema blinked, smiled pleasantly at her remaining party guests, and Dallen pulled Aziraphale away with a huff.
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"Dallen, this is ... this is Crowley. An old friend. Crowley, this is--" He trailed off. Could he try friend for Crowley? Would it work? Probably not but he was trying. He gulped and eyed the doorway. "We should be leaving..."
Who was even we any more? He should just leave. This was too much, all too much. He moved to leave, maybe he could just run all the way back to the flat and hide in the closet. He had done it before, irony aside.
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"I don't want to go anywhere near you, fucking prick. But you can't keep me from him. We're old friends, didn't you hear?" Crowley mocked himself, them, the whole damn situation. "Aziraphale, are you kidding me with this clown?"
"Rather a clown than whatever you are supposed to be! What is that look, a mafia?" He knew little about organised crime, he wasn't allowed to consume media about that.
no subject
He didn't want to upset him. Then it would be a disaster. Especially now he knew, especially now he had met Crowley, knew of him and knew what the ring meant.
With one last tug, Aziraphale tried his best to get to the door, not wanting to make this a bigger scene. "Lovely party, Anthema, we must be going!"
no subject
Something about it all didn't sit well with Crowley. Nothing about it did. "Don't talk to him like that!"
"I'll talk to him any way I want. Go pray in a church, heathen." Not the slam-dunk Dallen thought it was, but he didn't realise that, he was prepared to walk out of there with his head held high.
Anathema felt bad, she truly did, but all she could do was mouth a 'sorry' to Aziraphale, there was no time for lengthy apologies or explanations. She pulled the bedroom door closed hastily, Crowley's voice ringing through, but muffled.
"Damn you, Aziraphale!" Anathema blinked, smiled pleasantly at her remaining party guests, and Dallen pulled Aziraphale away with a huff.