Dead Man's Party: An Ineffable Halloween

To Crash a Party

Aziraphale sighed contentedly as he stepped out of the bath and slipped on his fuzzy blue robe. That bath had been just what he'd needed after yesterday, which was full of stressing over the fact that there was less than a year left until the end of the world.

He opened the bathroom and made his way downstairs, deciding to get some hot cocoa before he put on his clothes.

A demon was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Good Heavens!" Aziraphale exclaimed, stopping and fumbling to tighten the sash around his waist, his cheeks blushing bright pink, "Crowley! How did you get in here?" Stupid question, he knew how. Locked doors were something Crowley thought happened to other people, "For Heaven's sake, make your presence known, I could have been indecent!"

Crowley snorted, leaning on the stair rail, his arm dangling over it in an almost inhumanly lax way, as Aziraphale padded down the stairs and miracled his clothes to him.

"Geez, Angel, I didn't think there'd be a situation where you'd come downstairs indecent," Crowley said, rolling his eyes as Aziraphale pressed his folded clothes against his chest, "What were you doing up there, anyway?" Crowley observed the angel's wet hair with mild interest.

"I was taking a bath," Aziraphale replied, causing Crowley to frown contemplatively.

"You do know that you don't have to do that, right?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, Crowley. Baths calm me down," Aziraphale explained, stepping into the kitchenette, though Crowley remained by the stairwell, "Cocoa?"

"I don't see what's so calming about sitting in a tub of hot water. And, no, thanks," Crowley remarked, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into a pocket.

"I use lavender-scented soap," Aziraphale called from the kitchenette in reply, as if that would add context and make more sense.

It did not.

"M... okay," Crowley shrugged, not really wanting to get in to a prolonged conversation about baths and their calming effects, as he'd come to the book shop for a reason, and talking about baths wasn't it, "Anyway, I came here to talk to you about something specific, so I'd appreciate if you came back out here and listened to me."

Aziraphale reemerged fully dressed, save for the end of the trouser leg he was tugging over his heel, and holding a mug of hot cocoa,

"Okay, what's on your mind?" He asked, shuffling over to where his shoes had appeared, and putting them on, "Something about the end of the world, I assume?" He sounded slightly upset. Of course he was, any time the end of the world was mentioned he became upset.

"Right-o," Crowley replied, his usual resting bitch face deepening, "More specifically, it's about our dear Warlock."

"Oh, dear, is something wrong?" Aziraphale asked, sitting in a chair and motioning for Crowley to sit in the couch opposite him. He clutched the cocoa in a viselike grip, his brow furrowed, "Has something happened?" He couldn't bear the thought of the end of the world happening at all, and if it were to happen early? Aziraphale might lose his marbles!

"Not yet," Crowley said darkly, "No. More like, something might happen."

"Oh?"

"Well, Halloween is next Wednesday, right?"

"Right. I'm going to be handing out full-sized bars."

"Of course you are," Crowley scoffed, "Yeah, so, what I'm worried about is that Warlock might do something."