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go_exchange2023-12-14 06:55 am
Happy Holidays, shaggydogstail!
Title: Plan B(entley)
Summary: The Bentley believes there is some meddling required to get her demonic owner and their angelic passenger a nudge in the right direction.
Tags: Post S1, Pre S2, Bentley ships it, she/her Bentley, they/them Crowley, he/him Aziraphale
Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley
Rating: Teen
Word count: 1543
A/N: Happy Holidays shaggydogstail! Hope you enjoy reading <3
“...too much love would kill you, everytime—”
Click
“That’s enough of that,” growled Crowley, “not another note out of you for the rest of the drive, do you hear me?”
Although, the demon thought, that was asking for a bit much. The Bentley did often have a mind of her own, and if she hadn't been a faithful companion and confidant since the moment she had shipped from the assembly line, Crowley would have been less tolerant of her need for very specific song choices when they weren’t needed.
Say, for example, when picking up a certain angel.
On most occasions, having supernatural influence over inanimate objects can have its advantages. The front door to Crowley’s flat knows who to let in (usually just Aziraphale), the plants know who to fear (if they know what’s good for them), and the Bentley, for the most part, could practically drive itself when needed (that is to say, more often than not).
Crowley had somewhat gotten used to the idea that the car was developing a kind of sentience after being driven so long by a demonic entity, yet it wasn’t until the Velvet Underground cassettes had miraculously turned into the Best of Queen tapes as well that the demon had caught on to the vehicle’s agenda.
This ‘strange’ coincidence of the Bentley’s music preference whenever Aziraphale was involved was becoming dangerously on the nose, the intensity only increasing after the failed-mageddon. It was one thing to have to endure listening to love ballads with the object of their affection in the passenger seat, but to also know the meaning behind those songs and how much Crowley wanted to tell that to the angel? That it could ruin their not-really-talking-about-it-yet-but-still-very-much-present thing that had been blooming under the friendship? No, they would rather keep those pesky emotions close to their chest than have it all blow up in their face like an ill-advised scheme.
However, having the ability to pick up on all those complicated feelings left the Bentley to sort out one very specific fact; that the demon Crowley was in love with the angel Aziraphale. More specifically, Crowley was hopelessly smitten and so was Aziraphale and they both just needed a lesson in communication.
And really, what kind of companion would she be, if she did not help her owner in wooing the source of their affection? It wasn’t as if said owner was making any progress without her help (never mind that any help seemed to be unwarranted to the demon).
To the Bentley, she was doing a favour. She (rightfully) knew that the angel and demon weren’t going to acknowledge anything further without some intervention and, lacking the ability to communicate in an ordinary way, she was determined to resort to alternative means to play her role.
And to play some music.
While still parked outside the bookshop, the Bentley obediently stayed silent, giving the impression of having listened to her owner’s hissed warning. In reality, she was just biding her time.
Crowley gave a honk from the car, not that it was needed since Aziraphale had surely seen them, but it was entertaining to watch the humans on the sidewalk shoot annoyed looks his way. Retired demon or not, some things were just done for simple pleasures.
Right as the angel stepped out, huffing disapprovingly at Crowley’s antics while Crowley gazed at the way the fading sunlight hit at just the right angle to make the angel’s hair look so impossibly soft, the Bentley saw her chance and took it.
“Ooh you make me live, whatever this world can give to me—”
Crowley jerked in their seat, dragged from their daydream.
“Shut that off right now! I swear if you keep playing that one when Aziraphale gets here I’ll—”
The radio buzzed and switched to a different tune.
“Ooh love, ooh loverboy, whatcha doing tonight, hey boy!”
Crowley groaned, dramatically throwing their head back but they couldn’t continue scolding the car. The passenger side had already opened and closed with a click, settling one angelic being– their counterpart, their constant– beside them.
“Hello, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled and Crowley, still reeling from the stunt the Bentley pulled, could only nod in acknowledgement at the greeting.
Aziraphale was perfectly dressed as always; waistcoat, pocketwatch and bowtie all in place. A smile on his face and delight shining clear in his eyes. Crowley still hadn’t gotten used to this new routine of seeing each other almost every day, so openly, with no assignments to swap, no complaints about head offices, just the two of them and whatever afternoon activity they had planned.
Aziraphale was already in the middle of his tale of a customer who almost convinced him to trade his illustrated Dante and Crowley let him talk, to fill the space with anything other than the song that still ran on.
Although, it kept playing when they could have sworn it wasn’t usually that long.
“...we meet at 9 precisely, I will pay the bill, you taste the wine…”
Crowley had to do a double take because that did not sound like the tape, surely they must have misheard. The Bentley expertly turned at the junction at the last moment.
“Did you… were you just singing that?” they asked Aziraphale in disbelief.
“Hmm, it is a fairly enjoyable tune, got stuck in my head it seems!”
“How did you even learn the lyrics? It’s a century too early for any of the classics you enjoy,” Crowley made a face, “and somehow I highly doubt you took the time to look it up on that ancient desktop of yours.”
“Oh, well, I certainly heard this one enough times by now that I might have picked up a thing or two,” Aziraphale said, ignoring the jab at his old-fashioned tendencies. “The Bentley seems to be fond of this particular kind of music.”
“The Bentley, right, yeah.” The seat gave a little jostle causing Crowley to sit up a bit more and grip the steering harder.
“And if I remember correctly you did know the singer, Mr. Freddy?”
“Might’ve hung around the band here and there.” Might have had one too many to drink around them on more than a few occasions and unwittingly became the source of the lyrics.
“You do have to admit the melodies grow on you, don’t they?”
Did the world turn upside down? Aziraphale was taking a liking to bebop!?
“And the lyrics—”
Crowley’s heart leapt into their throat.
“—always tell a story in their own way.”
“Urg…ehh…I mean, just banding together some rhymes and all, same as any other…”
“Oh, but! I know it’s a different playing field to classical composers, yet the essence comes from the same creativity, all uniquely human-made.”
“Right, yup, just humans being humans, the usual…” Crowley nearly breathed a sigh of relief out loud. If Aziraphale had started asking after meanings to the lyrics, they were going to have to walk the rest of the way.
The Bentley, not at all deterred by Crowley’s predicament, switched over to another piece.
“ …there goes my baby, she knows how to rock and roll…”
“Oh you have got to be kidding—”
Crowley would have had more to say if the sound of Aziraphale stifling his laughter didn’t distract them. They did their best to scowl at the angel, who was placing his hands in a calming gesture, teasing grin dropping to something soft around the edges.
“I’m ever so glad that the Bentley’s still here,” Aziraphale spoke lowly. The shift in the atmosphere was not lost on Crowley. They waited for him to continue.
“I’m glad we’re still here too, together.”
“Ngk,” Crowley coughed and tried to recover saying things like that without a warning should be criminal!
“Right yeah, toast to the world, your bookshop too, and all that,” Crowley grumbled, but then gave in to the urge to add, “‘m glad we’re here together too, angel.”
Crowley saw the twitch in Aziraphale’s hand from the corner of their eye, for a second both dreading and anticipating that hand reaching towards them. But then Aziraphale looked ahead and the moment was lost.
“Ah, look we’ve arrived!” Aziraphale’s voice brought them back to the present, with the entrance to Hyde Park standing before them.
For all that she had been acting up today, the Bentley did always pull through in the end.
“Come along, dear!”
Crowley hummed an affirmation as Aziraphale stepped out.
The engine gave a steady sound, almost like a purr.
“Okay, alright, thank you,” Crowley patted the steering wheel, letting some of the pride in their voice sound through.
The Bentley thrummed in satisfaction of a job well done; small though it was, a victory was a victory. There was still a lot to be done, she knew that, but it wasn’t bad at all for their new start.
“ Find me, somebody to love—”
For once Crowley let the opening lines fade as they too got out of the car. They didn’t need the Bentley to tell them that they already had someone to love— and someday soon they’ll get the chance to tell him.
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