Plan Me No Plans

Lies, Lies, Truer Than You Think

a/n: For the record, all acting done in this chapter is of the bad variety.

-/-

After a little while going over their plan, Gabriel had been sent to check on Aziraphale. The moment he was out of the room, he slipped away to call Beelzebub. He'd very carefully not brought up that the book Raphael had brought required both sides to hear the lies about each other: all the same he knew it would be necessary for the plan, and therefore the Plan, for him to involve Beelzebub's help.

The fact that this gave him a chance to call her, and talk to her again so soon after the last time, was not something he was going to think about. It was just a side effect, and he could appreciate working with someone who appreciated the stress he was under.

"I still don't understand why it's zo important to make Crowley and your Principality fall in love," she said, once he'd done explaining what he needed.

"Nor do I," he admitted. "But we both want the Plan to succeed, so if it needs them to, you know, get squelchy, then it's in both of our best interests to push them that way. Raphael's idea is a good one, and since the last one didn't work..."

"I told you it was a ztupid plan."

"And yet you agreed to it."

"Of course. Even failing, you zapped Crowely. That waz funny."

"That's very cruel," he observed mildly, and thought that Beelzebub would get along quite well with Sandalphon, and added, "So you'll do it?"

"Yes. But that'z two you owe me now."

"Yes, I know. Don't worry, honeybee, I'm keeping track." He grinned a smug grin, and could almost see her bristling on the other end of the line. She always bristled when he called her honeybee. It was cute, which was not dignified for a prince of hell and therefore antagonistic and completely allowable within the perimeters of propriety for angels.

"Shut up firefly. Anyway, it'z going to take a few dayz for Crowley to recover from you zapping him, so we'll need to put things off a bit on our end."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

"That's why I'm the brains of this Arrangement and you're nothing but a pretty face, dumbazz."

Antagonism. Very proper, very reassuring. He gave another smug grin. He knew how to respond to this. "You think I'm pretty."

"Pretty and stupid," she agreed. "If you weren't such a dickhead it'd be the perfect combination."

"You're a demon, you like that I'm a dickhead," he said, before he could stop himself. He bit his tongue. This was not going in a good direction. There couldn't be anything about him that a demon could find appealing. He cleared his throat. "Or at least, what you consider a dickhead, which is anything that goes against your demonic instincts, of course."

There was a long silence on the other end, in which he had time to wonder if she'd set the phone down and stormed off (wouldn't be the first time), before she said, slowly, "Right. Of coursze. You're a heavenly dickhead, very much outzide of what a demon would find... appealing."

"Exactly." Another silence, and, "I'll, um, I should go— let me know when Crowley recovers enough to engage with the plan. I think it will be best if we do it at the same time."

"Of courze."

"Right." More silence. "Thanks, honeybee."

He hung up, and said a swear. After this he'd have to make sure there was a lot of time before he saw Beelzebub again. And probably he should do something about his heart, which was fluttering wildly in his chest. It wasn't like it could hurt him, but it was such a nuisance. He banished it. He could circulate his own blood for awhile, or better yet, slip up to heaven and out of his corporation until it had gotten a handle on itself.