Crowley and Aziraphale were in Pompeii, enjoying the food—Aziraphale not-so-tempted-tempted with. Oysters at Petronius, a new restaurant. They wandered the city, savoring the breeze, when suddenly, smoke erupted from Mount Vesuvius.

“Oh… well, that can’t be good,” Crowley muttered.

“Ah, it is in motion,” Aziraphale said grimly. “The Ineffable Plan. All of Pompeii will be buried in lava and ash.”

“And..." Crowley sighed, taking off his tiny sunglasses. "… why?”

“Well…” Aziraphale hesitated. “It’s best not to question the Plan.”

“Mhm,” Crowley hummed, watching the citizens glance at the volcano, oblivious to the danger. For now

As panic spread, the two strolled through the chaos—people screaming, the injured crying out. Aziraphale’s heart ached to help, but defying Heaven was unthinkable. Crowley, despite himself, wanted to intervene, couldn't because Hell would be furious.

Neither worried about the debris, ash, or lava. Miraculously, everything missed them. What a coincidence.

“Well, I must go. I can’t be seen fraternizing with the other side,” Aziraphale chuckled, hesitating before patting Crowley’s shoulder in farewell.

“Fraternizing,” Crowley muttered, watching him leave. It stung, how loyal Aziraphale still was to Heaven after everything.

Then, someone grabbed Crowley’s arm—you. Panicked, pleading for him to run, pulling at him. But Crowley just blinked down at you—this mortal—before glancing up.

A boulder.

Too fast to miracle away.

“Oh, oh,” he muttered, snapping his fingers—teleporting to safety.

Exhaling in relief, he dusted off his black robe, and fixing his a laurel-like headpiece… then heard a breath behind him.

You.

Crowley groaned. “My side is not going to like this.” He groaned "I can practically hear Aziraphale laughing." He muttered and he looked around, as if his angel would appear behind him.

He looked at you, waving his hands as if to shut down a party. "Look, I didn’t save you, alright? You just… happened to not die. Coincidence. Total fluke. Let’s never talk about it again.