for salutosinedelectat

[sauntered_downward]

Follows this.

They couldn't just teleport themselves there. Any miracles, demonic or otherwise, would attract too much attention. No, Crowley was actually going to have to sit there, plugging their information into an online search engine, and do it all manually. Fluctuating airline prices were demonic work, and right now a trip to Japan was over six thousand pounds more expensive than if he had bought it three days earlier, which was totally outrageous. Crowley didn't know a lot about money except what it made men do to each other, he'd never had to. But now, making money appear out of nothing could turn the wrong eye on them if he wasn't careful.

Luckily, he had quite a few credit cards that never needed paying or had a limit on them. They would work in a pinch for a moment like this. He didn't know if that sort of perk-of-being-a-demon could ever be taken away from him, but he hoped not.

The flight itself was a long one, and Crowley settled himself in for it by making sure they were flying at least first class. That way they could see everyone coming at them and have a few glasses of wine on the journey.

"I don't think they know about these passports," Crowley says. "They might, but I doubt it. I had them made back during the last World War, just kept them in good condition."

The second World War was something that Crowley took responsibility for, but he hated every moment of it, and what his side did to make it worse made him sick. He was more than prepared to hide away if he needed to when things went wrong back then. And, at the time, he had also created a passport for Aziraphale, in case he wanted to come along. No other reason for that, he told himself.

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[salutosinedelectat]

This whole business is a bit too much of a mess, he feels. Without using miracles to get past all of the little bothersome things, it was all entirely too cumbersome and stressful, something they really didn't need while they were already worried about being caught at any second. It made Aziraphale's mood fluctuate in... "interesting" manners, between staring out windows for far too long, as if expecting the forces of Heaven and/or Hell to simply saunter on and put an end to all of this, or the angel being far too confused over some modern details when it came to travelling - really, who deemed it necessary to make it all so complicated? -, or sometimes even sounding a bit too snappy or harsh, which he usually quickly apologized for.

But he thinks about Japan. He thinks about the sights and sounds, the lights, the food. His demonic friend by his side, both of them watching each other's back. It will be fine.

They will be fine. He has to believe that. There would have not been anywhere else to go if the world had ended, but there's nowhere else for them to go to hide in now. All they have is each other.

"I don't think they know what they are." The Angels, at least, he's quite sure don't know anything about human conventions, present or otherwise. "Will they do?"