Chapter Text
It was on a warm day at the tail end of summer, that Venus, the Roman goddess of love, was strolling down the empty isles of a museum of war in the north of France.
Of course, the people visiting the Musée du Fort de la Pompelle wouldn’t have known it was her, although a lot of them might have wondered what such a pristine looking woman in such a sharp suit was doing amidst these dusty monuments of death.
Very few of them would have noticed the subtle way her appearance seemed to change as she made her way along the exhibits: The way her heels seemed to grow higher as she casually waved at one of the museum guards; the way her hair turned silver as she passed a group of unruly teens; the way her eye colour turned from red to green to brown and finally to a bright pink.
If it were any other day, Venus might have stopped to appreciate the many displays – the uniforms especially seemed to draw her eyes – but not today…
Today she was on a mission, and she was dead set on completing it…
Her fancy heels clattered against the floor with every step she took, echoing down the halls as she passed a final set of tourists before coming to a section of the building that was suspiciously devoid of life.
Most people would have felt unnerved by the sudden, oppressive silence around her, but Venus wasn’t intimidated. She took one more step before turning on her heels, her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“You’re late”, she said, trying to sound matter-of-factly, as to not show the begrudging respect she had for that very act.
Facing the supernatural being in front of her, she stared unflinchingly into his slitted eyes.
He was wearing an all-black outfit: Snakeskin boots peaked out from underneath a set of leather pants, and a single grey tie was nested between layers of a t-shirt, a suit jacket and a leather waistcoat.
It was a risky outfit, that’s for sure, but the angel managed to pull it off – in large part due to the hair, which was dyed in a daring red that leant a pleasant counterbalance to all the shades of black.
“No matter,” Venus concluded her quick appraisal and started walking again, making the other being follow her lead. “you said you wanted to talk?”
“I did…”
Venus raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, waiting for Crowley to continue.
“It’s just…” The former demon dawdled with every word. “With everything that’s going on… It got me thinking… Us thinking, Aziraphale and I…”
Ah… Venus thought, So it’s that kind of afternoon .
It was one of Crowley’s nastier habits: the way he’d sometimes fall back into a sort of feedback loop, trying to find the best way to word his next sentence.
The first time it had happened, the goddess had tried to coax it out of him, but that had only resulted in Crowley clamming up – the polar opposite of what she set out to achieve.
The only solution Venus had found was to just wait it out.
Good thing she didn’t mind being patient, after all…
She had all the time in the world.
“Warlock is starting to get older, and I suppose it’s only logical we would too, and…” Crowley suddenly trailed off, as if distracted by the look in Venus’ eyes.
“I’m sorry, could you maybe…” he blushed. “... Not look like that?”
“Like what?” Venus moved her attention to her appearance, finding it had shifted whilst Crowley and her had been talking.
The first thing she noticed was the outfit, still roughly the same as the one she had called into existence this morning, but with a few noticeable tweaks.
The edges had become rounder, the blazer’s fabric widening a little around her waist. The bold red had become more subdued, contrasted with tiny blue diamonds that adorned her outfit like stars.
So too had her corporation changed, over time expanding until she could almost imagine that there was an actual stomach underneath her – still synthetic, yet fleshy – skin. Even her fingernails had shrunken, the ones on her middle and ring finger having done so the most noticeably.
She looked soft, approachable even!
With a burgeoning suspicion, the goddess cast a glance at one of the vitrines, catching a glimpse of platinum blonde curls and sky blue eyes in the hazy reflection.
“ Ah ”, she said, “I see…”
With a slight reluctance she shrunk down her body again, Aphrodite finally latched onto a nearby mortal’s imagination, completely transforming herself into the dark skinned bodybuilder of their dreams.
There was something nostalgic about the bigger, softer body types, she felt. It brought her back to a time when the world was young and contained within the isle of Cyprus, back before the infighting and the backstabbing that her immortal life seemed to consist of.
“So…” Venus amicably bumped her shoulder against Crowley’s. “I take it you two are going strong then?”
The two of them stopped to look at an old cannon, the defunct weapon seeming to call to Crowley in particular.
“I suppose…” He sighed. “It’s been quite the bumpy ride.”
If it had been her reluctant husband she was talking to, Venus might have taken that simple phrase – paired with the image of a wrought iron machine of war – as a nasty jab, a comment about her ever so delicate hand in all romantic affairs.
Looking at Crowley, however, Venus didn’t think this particular statement was directed at her…
Maybe the former demon just really liked cannons.
“I did promise to make your life interesting”, the goddess said, never one to pass on a friendly jest.
“Oh please…'' It was with some satisfaction that Venus noted a faint smile tugging at Crowley’s lips. “I bet you say that to all the demons!”
“Maybe I do…” She shrugged in response, then raised her eyebrow as it appeared Crowley choked on air, making a sort of “Ngk" sound as he did.
“Good thing you’re not one of them”, she finished, walking away from the cannon before stopping to look at a small collection of engraved sockets. “Well… not anymore…”
“I suppose…” Crowley frowned, as if lost in thought. “Did I ever tell you about the time I saw Pestilence at work?”
A rhetorical question… Now they were getting somewhere.
“This was before he retired, of course, 580 years to be exact. I had just popped in for a little temptation when I felt him, his stench choking the air around Pisa, the Black Death personified.” He bared his teeth in a sour grin.
“And to think it all started with that silly old tower…”