Good Omens: An Angel in the Brothel (Crowley x Aziraphale)

Chapter One: The Lupanar

Lupanar of Pompeii, AD 62

A pair of yellow eyes slithered from between the shadows. Dark scales shifted to pale flesh. None had seemed to notice as Crowley stepped onto the dirt lane. Crowds bustled through the street despite the sun that had set hours ago. Various shops lined the way; each shrouded by the veil of night save for the torchlight that glittered from dangling beads and the eyes of eager merchants.

A prospective customer stood nearby with his fingertips stroking his chin as he assessed a wooden booth of various fruits. A few beaded necklaces hung from his neck, giving the impression of wealth.

Crowley stared with gleaming eyes. Their dark slits narrowed. The demon could sense a stain over the man's heart. He had thought about stealing some of the finer fruits. The beads he wore were the last of his wealth and would run out within the year. And, thieving some food would make his small earnings last longer.

Crowley glanced away. He didn't care for petty sins for the time being. His mood had soured over the last few decades. He repressed the urge to flick his tongue in annoyance. It had been years since he had seen Aziraphale. Years of silence and solitude. Well, sort of. He'd had the humans all around and had done his fair share of tempting. But as time passed, a sinking pit chewed away at his insides as though the depths of Hell had taken up a new permanent residence.

A wine merchant came into view with a table full of bottles. Crowley snatched one from the booth and tossed a coin at the man over his shoulder, without slowing his stride. He ripped off the wax stopper with his teeth and downed a large swig of wine. He had considered stealing the bottle, but a flash of Aziraphale's sadden expression had curbed his own temptation.

"Damn it, angel," he grumbled under his breath.

His white-winged Adversary wasn't even there and still could smother his smoky intentions. Crowley huffed out a breath and scanned the starry heavens above. It was possible something had happened to him. But, the angel had appeared intelligent enough to keep out of harm's way. Not that he'd be gone forever if something had happened; he would just discorporate. Or worse, he could be recalled to another assignment, away from Earth.

Despite the abundant torchlight, the serpentine demon shivered against the evening air. He needed to get out of the chill. Crowley fixed his stare on a large building at a crossroads ahead. Light poured out from its many windows, cascading out shades of twin-backed beasts that writhed with moaning intensity onto the few meandering drunks below.

The demon smirked. "Seems like my kind of place." He sauntered over toward the building, eyeing the few loitering women that hung around the entrance of the house of earthly delights. Though, he supposed they weren't loitering as much as hunting. Any predator could recognize the penetrating stare of another. They scanned the crowd in search of their prey, or their case, the one with the most coin.

Crowley rolled his eyes, doubting any of them or all of them for that matter could satisfy his demonic hunger, even for the right price.

He blinked as a round blond head peeked out from the doorway.

Crowley stumbled to a halt.

The face was framed with angelic curls and comforting eyes the color of azure starlight.

Aziraphale froze as their eyes met.

It almost seemed a bit too coincidental, but then again, Crowley wasn't going to question whatever had dropped such an irresistible treat in his lap, which wasn't like him at all. Questioning things had been exactly what had landed him in a bad place from the beginning.

A coy grin slithered across Crowley's face, and he resumed his sauntering pace. The angel slunk back further behind the entryway but didn't break their stare.