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English
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DIWS Who Needs a Great Plan?, Tracy & Shadwell-Centric
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Published:
2021-09-29
Completed:
2021-10-16
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2,178
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5/5
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44
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40
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No one is more surprised than me about having written this many ficlets with Shadwell

Chapter 3: Shadwell is very wrong

Summary:

Post-Armageddon, Shadwell comes to all the wrong conclusions about the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship. Also he should write Mr. Crowley senior a letter.

Notes:

I think this was also for the location: airbase prompt but past me forgot to write it down.

Chapter Text

Shadwell had a long time to think on his way back from the airfield. The scooter had gotten them there at a terrifying rate of speed but it was a lot slower going on the way back. It only went at about the speed a young human could jog, so this was plenty fast for Shadwell. They also had to stop frequently for breaks to stretch out their stiff knees, let the engine cool back down, get tea, and take a break for the loo. The frequency of the last two might have been connected.

It left him a long time to think about things other than having his arms around Madame Tracy's waist. Which he was trying not to think about too much. Instead he was trying to make sense of what had just happened, or as much sense as he ever made of anything.

Mr. Fell said he was an angel. But he’d been banished like a demon. He’d possessed Madame Tracy like a demon. He’d wanted them to shoot a child. Even if he was supposed to be the Antichrist. Never had found out how many nipples the Antichrist had. He certainly didn’t seem to have pots of nipples, but maybe he’d left them home. Would be awkward carrying around pots of nipples.

Shadwell suspected Mr. Fell was probably lying about a lot of things. Name like Mr. Fell, didn’t sound very angelic. Aziraphale did sound a bit more angelic, but that’s what he’d told Tracy when he wanted something. All the rest of the time he’d been Mr. Fell.

That’d be a good demon name.

Mr. Crowley seemed to know him. He’d always liked Mr. Crowley and now his son. Maybe he should write old Mr. Crowley a letter. Something about almost having the world end made you want to check up on old friends. He’d have to ask Tracy for stamps.

Mr. Crowley was in the Mafia. He never said he was, but not like you ever said that sort of thing. And his son was too now, just like you got with the Mafia. Wasn’t something you could just join, the Mafia. Gangs, yes, those were always recruiting. You could work for the Mafia but you couldn’t just become Mafia. Had to come that way.

He’d heard rumors about the Mafia trying to buy up Mr. Fell’s shop. Never went well for the Mafia. Course there was more than one Mafia family, so he wasn’t sure exactly which one it was. They’d seemed too friendly for it to be Mr. Crowley’s. Awfully friendly. Very familiar. Mr. Crowley knew exactly who he was dealing with. What he was dealing with.

Mr. Crowley, both of them, had always been very generous when it came to funding the Witchfinder Army. So had Mr. Fell. Not the sort of thing a demon would do on his own. Especially since Shadwell had banished him once already. But iIf you had a demon bound, you could tell him to do anything, including funding a Witchfinder or running other Mafia out of town All those books were probably Mr. Crowley’s too. He was always reading when Shadwell saw him: newspapers, magazines, spy novels, those little stand up displays on tables. Explain why nothing ever got sold out of that bookshop if it was all Mr. Crowley's. Good bait for getting rid of the competition.

But the bookshop had been there a long time. A very long time. Two Mr. Crowley’s worth of time. But, the son was just like his father, so that made more sense. Clearly his father had passed along the family crime business and the demon that went with it. Lot of responsibility, keeping a demon in check. Hopefully Mr. Crowley had a son somewhere to pass the demon onto eventually. Or a daughter. Times were changing.