You can't go home again [closed]

[erratic_hematic]

It's either incredibly late or incredibly early, and Spike is leaning up against the equestrian statue in front of the Natural History Museum looking, in general, like someone you wouldn't want to meet in the middle of the night. He's wearing his long leather coat despite the warm night, smoking a cigarette, and contemplating the front of the building.

The last time he'd been in (his universe's) New York, he's had a little storage room to himself down in the basement of the building. He's curious if it's still there in this universe, so many years later. Curious enough that he has both his lock pick set and a pry bar stored in his coat. Not quite curious enough yet to go and check out what the alarm systems look like.

Comments

[anguiform]

That lifts Crowley's eyebrows. He's hardly a connoisseur himself, but good to know, should he ever need to earn this Spike's favour for whatever reason.

The question, however, just makes him laugh. 'You never heard of shapeshifting, mate? Though the snake'ssss in my blood, ssso to ssspeak.' He purposefully accentuates the hiss, baring his teeth to flash Spike a flicker of his forked tongue. 'I appreciate the recognition, though, gotta say. Seems so many people these days've forgotten all about Nagas. Bloody blow to the ego, that.'

He grins again, unable to quite resist it.

[erratic_hematic]

Well then. That's definitely a snake tongue. He's met demons with that particular feature before, but it usually came with scales or venom. On this guy it's just...strange. He did say shapeshifting. Maybe his real form is closer to something covered in scales. Looking at him, he can imagine it. Wouldn't be popular in the city, but not necessarily a bad look.

Spike turns back and pulls the door shut to the room. It's not the place he'd lived before, and it isn't a good prospect for the future either. "Hard to forget something that tried to squeeze me to death."

The door closed, he turns back, ready to give this room a better look-over. "So, should I just call you Naga, or have you got a name?" He smirks while leaning over to poke through a stack of papers. "Kaa?"

[anguiform]

Yeah, that'd probably do it, Crowley thinks, eyebrows going up and mouth turning down at the corners in an expression that says, huh, all right then. 'That even possible? I mean, I'm fairly sure we don't have vampires in my universe, but all the fictional rules of what'll kill a vampire that I know of tend to involve more in the way of garlic and stakes through the heart than crushing.'

Crowley finds a rare space of mostly-bare wall to lean against, tucking one knee up and watching as Spike apparently decides that whatever he'd been looking for in the little storeroom isn't there. The Kipling reference gets a little snort. 'Trusssst in me?' he suggests dryly. 'No thanks. Anthony Crowley, but just Crowley'll do.'

[erratic_hematic]

"Probably possible, I don't know. Didn't want to stick around and find out." He continues sifting through papers, but there's really note much of interest here. Some forms, some more forms, a doodle of a mummy, some more forms....

Spike snorts at Crowley's impression, but a moment later, the name itself makes his head jerk up to look at the demon. Aziraphale had told him that his...whatever...lover slash friend slash mortal enemy went by that name.

"Nahhhh." He scrunches up his face, incredulous. This is the guy his nerdy posh employer is attached to at the hip? They're not exactly a matched set, unless you go in for the whole opposites attract thing. "Aziraphale's Crowley?"

[anguiform]

'Oh, fuckssake,' Crowley sighs, deeply aggrieved. 'I don't belong to him. We're independent operatives!'

He needs to start meeting people before Aziraphale does so that he can be Crowley's Aziraphale for once, he thinks huffily. Except that then he'd have to ~tell them all about Aziraphale, which he's not exactly inclined to do. And not that he has any desire to claim ownership over Aziraphale either. Oi.

Belatedly, it occurs to him that this bloke knowing Aziraphale at all is supremely unlikely, and he swings around, brows furrowing. 'Wait, wait, how do you know Aziraphale?

[erratic_hematic]

"I'm his star em-ploy-ee," Spike says, grinning at Crowley's confusion. He's sort of surprised that Aziraphale hadn't found a way to mentioning him yet. He's been so excited by the idea of having him in the store. Or maybe it's just that he's excited about someone being around to scare people off while he sleeps in the back.

"He pays me to sit there and scare people out of his personal collection. Not a bad gig."