insane

Aziraphale looked around to see that nobody was watching and licked the melting ice-cream from the side of the cone. It was delicious, and it would be a shame to ruin his lovely historic petticoat. Although, everything he owned could be considered historic at this point, that just comes with being immortal.

Crowley was sure taking his time. His own ice-cream was long melted on the bench, even though Aziraphale knew he wouldn’t have eaten it anyway. It was the thought that counted to him.

He crunched down on the cone, getting quite annoyed now. Crowley was a mess, it’s a known fact, but he was always so punctual about his duck-feeding rendezvous of theirs. 

Annoyance subsided as a worry took over. What if something happened to him? What if something or someone is keeping him away? Aziraphale chewed faster, looking around, hoping to spot the familiar silhouette of a long, dark, broody pole. 

As panic really started to set, he finally spotted him, hurrying along the lake. Aziraphale exhaled, relieved, but then noticed that Crowley looked… a bit worse for wear. More than usual. His hair was a mess, his blazer slightly torn at the seams, and one of the lenses of his glasses was missing. But he was grinning like a madman.

Well, there must be a story there.

Aziraphale scooched politely on the bench right before Clowley spilled over it, taking most of the space, and leaned back with a deep sigh

“So…” Aziraphale started, “Had some fun then?”

“Oh you wouldn't even believe it, angel” Crowley replied, still grinning

“Oh yeah? Would you like to share with the class?”

“Mmm. So I was out there, thwarting, right?”

“As you do.”

“As I do. And it was a fun one too. I have been putting random vegetables in peoples' gardens, making them all paranoid and confused, very good for the natural balance of things.”

“...Right.”

“I put yellow cucumbers in this one lot’s backyard and I heard them arguing over who put it there, and I think I heard a glass break, followed by some shouting. Clearly very dysfunctional already, and that must have been the nail in the coffin.’

Crowley looked so proud of himself that Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. And then he frowned.

“Wait hold on, yellow cucumbers? Do those even exist?”

“They didn't before.”

_______________________________________

After finishing another round of depressurasation, and checking the balance of the chemical mix left in the tanks, they gave each other a thumbs-up and started progressing further below.

They had radios built into their helmets, but using sign signals was automatic at this point. 

According to the calculations they were about to reach the Petrova Cave pretty soon now, and John was flashing his light back and forth, trying to spot it in the total darkness that surrounded them.

They heard about the cave back home in London, when a drunk colleague of theirs was yapping on and on about the potential treasure hidden within. “A whole ship of bounty has sunk there, John!” he said for the fifth time, spilling his drink a bit while wildly gesticulating. “And nobody found it yet! But our guys did some triangulation or whatnot, and everything points towards it being in that bloody cave”.

John didn’t like the glint in Sherlock’s eyes when he heard it. True, there hasn't been many interesting dives lately, mostly the easily accessible touristy stuff, and he was aching for an adventure. But a fucking treasure hunt? Seriously?

John still went with it, because of course he did. They spent weeks in preparation and research before finally hiring a guy to take them to the drop-off point. It wasn’t really legal what they were doing, so best keep it on the down low. Hey can tell people later if they actually find something.

The hopes of which were now dwindling fast in John’s mind. They still didn’t see the cave, despite being in the right coordinates. Was that guy crazy after all? 

He was about to tell Sherlock that they need to start going back up before they get too low on oxygen, and then he saw a sparkle of something on the ocean floor. Was that…?

He motioned to get Sherlock’s attention and the two of them swam to get a closer look.

It was a case. A metal case, covered in rust and barnacles, with seaweed trapped in the handle. It has been there a while, but it definitely didn’t look back from the age of pirates.

He saw the intrigue reflected in Sherlock’s eyes, as he reached for it. It took some elbow grease to get it loose, unsettling the silt in the process, and making the already low visibility turn into zero.

John grabbed for Sherlock's hand, getting his calf instead.

“You got your treasure. Now let's skedaddle. Over”

something goes wrong on the way up

something worthless in the case (or even nothing. or a yellow sea cucumber).

Sherlock finally reveals the secret that he has a health problem, leukaemia, and he can’t dive anymore.