An angel who didn't so much fall...

“Good. Alright! That’s … good.”

Color her surprised, honestly. As restful as his presence had been – as little as he had asked for her – Fantine had been doing this too long to be anything other than wary of his kindness. (To think there were other women who had been doing this for years – it was enough to make her want to weep from exhaustion. She must go on; she must. To give up was unthinkable. And yet somewhere in her bones she knew that her current state could not last.)

He had paid for dinner, and that was unusual, because most men didn’t want to linger. It was as though, despite the fact that they indulged anyway, they knew how distasteful the whole thing was, so they just got it over with as quickly as possible. Not a problem, really – it was the few that pretended at kindness and gallantry that got under Fantine’s skin. As though telling her she was pretty when she so clearly wasn’t anymore was something to thank them for. As though making her pretend she was happy with their attention was something she wanted to do. If there was one thing she missed about the musician – and it was the only thing she missed about him – it was his bluntness.

This particular gentleman seemed content to play politeness before the other shoe dropped. She wished he would be a little more direct about it, but then, beggars couldn’t exactly be choosers. And the other thing – even the ‘nice’ ones would usually be pawing at her by now. What was this one playing at?

Confusion made her a little less shy. “Do you know how to play brusquembille, monsieur? I learned how to play it in Paris.”

He could feel the unease and discomfort coming off of her like waves. Like she was preparing herself for him to change into some monster at any moment (if only she knew). Although, Crowley supposed, if he was one of her usual suitors, he would have tried something long ago, and he would have already left. It wasn’t the demon’s job to judge humans for their actions, quite the opposite usually, since he tended to be the one tempting them into doing bad things, but that didn’t mean he approved of how far some humans could go at hurting one another. He wasn’t sure exactly what cause Fantine to have such a guarded look, but he was certain whatever it was was crueler than anything he could have come up with.

And if he was Management Downstairs, that would be good news. Humans damning each other without much demon help is good for business. More souls to torture, more soldiers for the eternal war, etcetera, etcetera. But being himself and being here to see it, it only left him with a cold feeling in his chest. He could have said it made his heart hurt, if he had a heart. 

“girls only want me for my wingspan and beautiful plumage” not JUST those things

|| HI KRYSTAL I KNOW EXACTLY 0 THINGS ABOUT GOOD OMENS BUT I'M HERE ANYWAY

HI JENN! 

You honestly don’t need to know much. The quick run down for Crowley is that he was The Serpent in Eden, and he (and the angel Aziraphale) have been here on Earth since then, living amongst humans the whole time. Crowley’s a demon who’s more annoying than evil when it comes to damning people, and while he puts up a front of being cool and a ‘Flash Bastard’, he’s really not. He’s a loser who threatens his houseplants when they start to wilt and likes to feed ducks in the park/go to the Ritz to eat with Aziraphale. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. Every demonic and logical part of him screamed that he shouldn’t have done any of this. Crowley should have just left the poor girl, (Could he call her that? Was late twenties considered young by human standards? It certainly felt young,) at the docks where he found her. But she just felt so out of place there. Everyone else had already given up, there was no hope to keep them going, no love in their hearts, just greed or lust or nothing at all. She was beacon of love and hope, and something in Crowley wanted to get her out of there.

‘Is it actually possible for a demon to do good?’

He could hear it clear as day, like it happened five minutes ago instead of five  millennia ago. Maybe he could just blame this on the Arrangement, that there was enough damnation around here without Crowley’s help and that he should try to help this one girl since Aziraphale wasn’t here. The only problem is that he had no idea how. He bought dinner, because the poor girl looked like she hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, had an honest and kind conversation with her because no one else seemed to, and went to bed to encourage the girl, Fantine she had said, to do the same and get some much needed rest. 

He had intended to give her some money (maybe too much) and let her go to find her daughter, but now they were both stuck inside due to the cold. Crowley had no idea how to pass the time until the ice melted, and Fantine offering up a card game gave him more relief than a demon should have.