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It was ridiculous that Gabriel wanted to give her a commendation for prohibition. He was so proud of the way the Americans were attempting to fix their horrible drunken reputation in the world by limiting the sale of alcohol. Aziraphale had merely been in the right place at the right time, as it were. She was worried, in light of the Great War, that the United States could be doing more for neighbors across the continent. Something dangerous was brewing, she had certainly been around long enough to understand that much. So she had popped on over to the United States to see what kind of heavenly convincing she could do, but was feeling greatly discouraged. It would seem that this isolationist policy was still very much en vogue , despite how involved the country had been in the war itself.
So if her words arguing for moral philosophy would not win out with these politicians, she decided that she should rely on her body to get her what she wanted. Crowley had once told her that sometimes the ends would justify the means, and that her body could justify any means that had ever existed. Of course, he had been trying to flatter her, but he usually didn’t make a habit of lying to her.
Not that they had seen each other in a while - not since she had stopped by his flat with a thermos of holy water, begging him to not unscrew the cap. It had tied her stomach up in knots, and made guilt burn through her something awful, but it was for Crowley. And maybe he had other people to fraternize with, but she didn’t. And she could admit, privately to herself, that he was her best and most dearest friend. And sometimes, when you had a best and most dearest friend, that meant giving them things you didn’t want to. For instance, a thermos of holy water that could very well destroy them entirely.
Oh bugger - now she was terrified again. She knocked her own drink back, waving over another shot. Time to drink away the fears.
Just because heaven assumed she helped prohibition did not mean that she was going to abide by such a ridiculous law.
After she handed over the thermos, she had bolted as soon as she could to the United States in a desperate attempt to try and do some good worth writing to the office about. But after trying to debate people as Aziraphale Fell, the english philosopher to no avail, she changed tactics and posed as her sister, wanting to get to know these brave, strong politicians. And they liked to congregate at little speakeasies like the very one she was getting plastered in.
There was also something to be said for the ladies’ fashion in the era - the fringe, while far too short, felt divine. The headpiece was also rather lovely, and she loved the way the jewels on it glittered and matched her dress. The coloring on both was a rather outstanding gold hue. She normally didn’t go for such a bright or loud look, but she needed to stand out to attract this senator she was looking for. And also, it was nice to dress in a different role than what she normally did.
She gestured for her second, or maybe third, who could keep track, drink of the night, when a gentleman took the seat next to her stool.
“Hey there little lady,” The man coed, and she bristled. Never had someone dared call her little.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone?” He said, “Don’t know you know there’s gangsters in these parts?”
Aziraphale gave him a bland smile. “I don’t worry about that,” She said honestly. He chuckled.
“Jack is my name,” He said, and she already forgot it. “What are you drinking?”
“Whiskey, neat.” She replied. When in Rome, and all that. Only she wasn’t in Rome, not anymore.
“How about you give me a dance, and your next drinks on me?” The man, and bugger she didn’t remember his name in the slightest, offered.
“I’m alright,” She said, looking about to find a new place to sit. There was a senator that she was trying to find, and by golly she was going to find him. But as she made to stand, there was suddenly another man in front of her, not even bothering to smile at her.
“I’m sorry,” The first man said, but he didn’t even sound all that sorry. “But when I ask a dame to get a drink with me, I usually don’t expect them to say no.”
“Well, first time for everything,” She snapped, because this was honestly just so rude. The nerve of these people!
“This is Brutus, one of my bodyguards,” He said, and Brutus gave her a fierce glare. “Brutus is going to make sure we have a good time.”
“Well, Brutus,” She said, “If you would be so kind as to let me go.” But as she turned to leave, a third man blocked her path. Honestly. Americans.
“No, no,” The first man was saying, “My pals and I want to make sure we have some company, and you in that short gold number will do rather nicely for some good company.”
She bristled. For a moment, she debated if she would be able to get away with smiting these ruffians. Afterall, she had just received a certificate of congratulations from her office, and that did mean she would have a certain amount of leeway. But did she really want to spend it on this? And maybe, if they were preoccupied with her, they would not bother some other poor unsuspecting gal that didn’t have her powers. No, no, no sense in wasting a frivolous miracle on getting them to leave her alone.
That first rude gentleman grabbed her arm, and began pulling her towards the dance floor.
“I don’t dance,” She said, through gritted teeth. He gave her a tut of disapproval.
“Now now,” He said, pulling her close. “I’m sure I could find a way to persuade you.”
“Oh really?” A new voice rang out. And this was one that Aziraphale recognized. She brightened instantly.
"Crowley," she breathed. To her surprise, the men around her seemed to take a step back.
"Crowley?" That first man spluttered. "Not the gangster Crowley?"
The gangster Crowley? She wanted to laugh. Aziraphale turned in the direction the interruption had come from, and she stopped dead.
Oh, he looked ever so dashing. He looked so fresh with his dark suit, fedora, and red accents. The lines made his shoulders and arms look so - devilish. In all the best ways.
“Maybe I am,” He snarked, and his eyes lingered on Aziraphale in a way that made her heart skip a beat.
“My girl was waiting for me,” Crowley continued, “I hope that you weren’t going to leave with her?”
“No!” One of the bodyguards stressed. “We was just leavin’”
He and his fellow crony rushed off, leaving that first man to splutter in place. Aziraphale reached with her free hand to pluck his hand off her other arm. She gave him a mock-sweet smile, and he seemed to yelp and scamper off.
Aziraphale gave Crowley a wide smile. “Oh darling, thank you,” She breathed.
“Don’t thank me,” He said, not exactly looking all too pleased. “You don’t want to know what those hoodlums were thinking.”
“I suspect I don’t,” She agreed. A cursory look at the bar showed the drink that man ordered was there, and she offered it to him. “In town long?”
He took it with a nod of thanks, and downed it in one go. “Depends,” He said, “On how long you’ll be here.”
A flush pinked her cheeks. “Oh, what do you mean?” She asked.
He didn’t answer her right away. Instead, he fished out a few bills from his pocket, settling both their tabs with a generous tip for the bartender. Crowley then offered his arm to Aziraphale, who took it with a smile.
“Well,” He said, stretching out the word, “After how well you helped me out, I figured that the least I could do was make sure a doll like you had a safe night.”
Aziraphale let out an indignant laugh, but Crowley could see that she was pleased. “You look gorgeous, Aziraphale,” He said. “The gold really suits you.”
She smiled, and Crowley was taken aback by how her eyes sparkled, accentuated by the way the light reflected from her dress and headpiece.
“Dance with me?” He asked, and Aziraphale flushed.
“Dear, you know I can’t,” She whispered.
“I don’t care,” Crowley said, desperately. “You look too beautiful and too radiant not to be in the center of the room for everyone to admire.”
“Oh, Crowley ,” Aziraphale said, and she was helpless to do anything except let him lead her onto the dance floor.
“You know I don’t dance dearest,” Aziraphale reminded him. Crowley gave her a grin, that was really more of a grimace in the way that it showed off his teeth.
“Any excuse to hold you close angel,” He said, and pulled her close by wrapping an arm around her waist. The tempo of the music changed to a slower pace, and she leaned into his chest. Crowley tucked her head under his chin, and she let out a soft sigh of contentment.
“Thank you,” She whispered and she could feel him shake his head.
“No, thank you.” He said, “I know you didn’t want to do it. I know you didn’t want to give me the holy water.”
“I don’t like it,” Aziraphale said, “But.. but I like you. And I trust you.” Her voice broke on the trust and she took a deep breath. “I just came here, trying to do some good. I can feel something terrible looming over there Crowley. Can’t you?”
“Not sure,” He admitted. “They had me out here, tempting people with alcohol and gangs. They said the prohibition was one of yours.”
She let out a scoff and he grinned, pressing a kiss to her curls. “Yeah, I figured as such. You must have gotten a good note for it though, right angel?”
“I did,” She admitted.
“Well that’s my girl,” Crowley praised. “Look, I also have it on good authority that a certain angel may have tipped off the police about the location of this little speakeasy, which is going to get her another commendation from Upstairs.”
“Oh, thank you,” She said, and he gave her a mock-glare.
“Don’t give me such language,” He said. “Look, how about you and I blow this joint, and I’ll get you an egg cream.”
Aziraphale made a face at him. “Egg cream?” That didn’t sound good at all.
Crowley raised his eyebrows at her. “Egg cream, you don’t know about those?”
She shook her head and he grinned. “Well, I’ll tempt you to one. You’ll like them.”
“If you insist,” She sniffed, and offered him her arm. He escorted her up the stairs, and they both went unnoticed as the location became flooded with policemen. It didn’t escape her notice, however, that the ruffians who had tried to accost her were among those arrested. She bit back a smile, and leaned into her Crowley’s embrace.
He was right about the egg creams, they were simply divine. Almost as divine as the company she had.