Crowley groaned as he heard his phone buzz. Sheets were tangled around his body and enough light to keep a soul awake was seeping through the windows and into the room. His eyes fluttered open as he rolled his body over far enough to reach his phone. Crowley fumbled with the phone in his hands before finally focusing his eyes on the screen. Aziraphale was calling.

"Angel, why are you calling so early?" Crowley asked with the phone to his ear.

There was some shuffling beside Crowley. The Ginger looked over to see a tuft of blond hair rolled over on the other side of the bed, in the process of moving towards him. The person's eyes opened, presenting dark iris' and a lifeless look in them; Hastur. Crowley put a finger on his lips to hush the other male before he had even tried to speak.

Aziraphale sighed into the phone, "It's nearly noon dear," Aziraphale said, "you should be awake by now."

"Well, I was boozing a bit last night. It's not my fault," Crowley said.

The male on the other end rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat. Crowley could basically see it, even if they were miles apart, "You need to come to the station. A new case came up  and we need as much help as we can get. . . Please try to be here within the hour."

Crowley gulped, his adam's apple bobbing, "Okay, I'll be there."

The ginger brought the phone away from his ear and glanced down at it before hitting the 'End Call' button. He sighed softly and turned his body to sit up and face forward. His eyes scanned the room, looking at what scraps he'd left behind from last nights escapade. After a moment of silent debating, he let out a breath and threw the covers off of him, rolling out of his bed.

****

A man with fiery ginger hair strutted through the police department. He was covered in black clothing with sunglasses concealing the secrets his eyes held. He wore a stone cold expression before approaching a blond in which he had so much history with.

"What's the issue, Aziraphale?" Crowley cocked a brow as he stood close to the blond.

Aziraphale was standing next to the desk of Newton Pulsifer, conversing about the case that had recently been presented to them. The conversation ceased once both males acknowledged Crowley's presence.

Aziraphale glanced back at Crowley and cleared his throat, "I'm glad you could make it. . . Five minutes late."

"You know how traffic goes. Hastur was yelling out the window at people and I almost caused a wreck, the usual."

"Hastur?" Aziraphale raised a brow.

"Yeah! His lazy ass missed the metro and I had to pick him up," that was a lie, of course. What had really happened was the night before Crowley had stayed out at some unruly hour and ended up picking up Hastur at a bar, taking him home, and I'm sure you can infer the rest. .  But details aside, Crowley wasn't willing to tell the full truth just yet, "that's over now though, he's enjoying himself at some bar now. Anyway, what's the problem?"

"Oh," Aziraphale looked down at Newton for a moment with a stiff posture, then back at Crowley, "right. Madame Tracy, a traveler from Southport ended up dead in a hotel pool this morning."

"Is that all you have?" Crowley questioned.

"Only two of our people have been to the scene, and they're trainees. We were waiting for you to get here so we could get enough detectives to suffice," Aziraphale responded.

Crowley licked his lips, "Then we should get to heading out. . . Oh, and the name's Crowley," he glanced judgingly at Newton.

"I'm Newton. . Newton Pulsifer sir," Newton stuck his hand out to shake the other man's, standing up from his (spinny) chair as he did so.

With Crowley's gloved hand, he shook Newton's with the nod of a head accompanied by a small grin. Newton grinned back at the Ginger before the three headed out.

****

Newton, Aziraphale and Crowley arrived at the scene. Aziraphale was listing off the different things for Newton not to touch while they were walking in, Crowley staying to himself. Though he wasn't talking, he was observing everything around him; listening in on conversations, examining the world around him, all that jazz. As they walked, Crowley took his naked hand and put it over the covered one. He slipped the cover off and placed it in his satchel.

"Okay, so we all know how you are with computers Newton, so please try to refrain from touching anything breakable," Aziraphale warned, "even if it's not a computer you're around, I have the right to be worried."

"[I] Never said you didn't sir," Newton nodded slowly, "I'll try to stay away from the breakables."

"Good," the blond nodded as they came across the door into the pool room, "because we need this to go as smoothly as possible, especially for one of your first times on the field."

There was caution tape in front of the door (which Crowley so graciously stepped over -- he almost fell, but he was in and alive) and a couple officials buzzing around. The three witnesses were sat on pool chairs, one being an older man with two smaller ones, in which he had no resemblance to. One of the cops who were at the scene came up to the small trio that had just walked in.

"What have you discovered here?" Crowley asked with a cocked brow, "I'm assuming since you two have been here long enough to find something that's worth my time."

Aziraphale nudged Crowley and cleared his throat, "Excuse him," Aziraphale said, "he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

The cop blinked and fixed their posture and cleared their throat, "Well there's not a lot of snooping that we've done so far. We've been more focused on cleaning up--"

"You've wiped away evidence?!" Crowley interrupted, "What imbeciles!"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale came back with a matched tone, "Shape up."

"Bu-- That's-- Ah, I get it, you must be trainees."

"You're correct, sir--"

"Excuses, excuses!" Crowley waved his hand, "Show us around."

Newton gave Aziraphale a questioning look before shrugging his shoulders lightly and walking shortly behind Crowley and the unnamed cop. They found themselves standing in front of the corpse (who was still face first in the pool), Newton uncomfortably shifting as he was forced to stare at it.

"All you've found is the body?" Crowley cocked his brow, "That's a pretty obvious thing to find, it's right there!"

"We understand that. We haven't been able to look into it for that long--"

"You've been here longer than five minutes, I'm sure you've seen something out of the ordinary."

"Actually," another cop (lets name him Cop #2) came out from the other corner of the room and approached the group, "we did find something suspicious."

"And that is?" Crowley cocked a brow.

"It's stupid," Cop #1 said, "I wouldn't bother them with that."

"I'm going to anyway," Cop #2 persisted, "it's the best that we have thus far."

Crowley and Aziraphale took a glance over at each other, the ginger let his shoulders bounce and a grin form on his face as a sign of humor. Aziraphale shared that same expression, the two gradually turning their attention back to the cops once they were done bickering.

"We found this glove," Cop #2 said, motioning to a black leather glove under a pool chair.

The ginger's eyes widened as he laid his eyes on the sight. Shivers sent down his spine and his mouth suddenly got dry, "I think we have our first lead, boys."

****

Newton decided to stay back to assist the cops (and make sure that they didn't mess up anymore) while Crowley and Aziraphale were going to the maintenance office to look over security tapes. They were conversing and reminiscing, laughing softly with the other.

"Those two cops reminded me of us when we first started," Aziraphale said, "it was almost like watching a split image."

"Yeah," Crowley smiled ever so slightly, "the both of us barely knowing what we're doing. . . Fun times."

"Can you believe it? We've been working together for nearly 8 years. . . That alone makes me feel old."

"Maybe it's because you are," Crowley snickered.

Aziraphale gasped, "Crowley!" He hit the ginger's arm with all his might (which wasn't a lot).

Crowley rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "Your hits are weak."

"Oh, wow. Very encouraging of you, dear."

****

Aziraphale and Crowley made it to the control room in no time. A receptionist was showing them the way around the keyboard before stepping back and letting the detectives get to work. Crowley sat down quickly and started typing furiously, clicking the mouse hard and changing the camera angles hurriedly. Aziraphale flinched at how the other male worked so fast. Eventually, Crowley came across a clip where the cameras suddenly went black.

He cocked a brow and looked further into it, "What's this?" He murmured to himself before leaning closer to examine, "It seems as if they lost power. . . Ma'am, did you lose power last night?" He turned to the receptionist.

The woman got caught out of her daydream and looked at him with raised brows, "Supposedly. I wasn't here, but my coworkers were telling me about a power outage. . . It was brief though."

Crowley hummed hushedly before twisting his body back to the screens. "It seems as if the cameras took longer than the rest of the building to come back on, is that true?"

She nodded, "That is."

"Alright," his eyes narrowed from behind his sunglasses, "you can leave if you'd like, miss. We have this covered in here."

The woman gulped, "Okay. I'll be back soon to check back in," she left shortly after finishing her sentence, closing the door behind her.

A moment of silence passed before Aziraphale cleared his throat, "What's the real reason as to why you were late this morning, Crowley? You weren't sleeping around again, were you?"

Crowley did that 'pfft' thing with his lips, "No. I told you, I'm done with that. It was a moment in time."

"You're never late otherwise," Aziraphale stated.

"Of course I am!" Crowley exclaimed, "I always am, I don't know why you'd say otherwise."

"Because you're late when you sleep around!" Aziraphale exclaimed, "I know you. I know you're not late without reason. . And don't tell me it was with Hastur again. We've been over this! He probably has an STD or five."

Crowley rolled his eyes, "You can stop now," he started, "I don't appreciate the false accusations."

"You're acting strange today, dear. . I don't know how much I like it," Aziraphale's brows knitted together.

"I'm acting normal."

"No, you're not."

Crowley huffed, "Drop it."

"Why should I?" Aziraphale straightened his posture, "I have a right to know."

"You don't Aziraphale," Crowley turned his chair to face Aziraphale with an angry expression, "get out of my business, and I'll get out of yours. Okay?"

Aziraphale sent him a similar expression before breaking and turning away, "I'm going to check on Newton. Call the paramedics so they can come and get the body for an autopsy," he opened the door and reluctantly walked out.

Once Aziraphale had left, Crowley let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the cameras. He started typing again before clicking the enter button a bit too enthusiastically. The power flickered in and out for a few moments, Crowley blinking and rolling back in his chair a bit.

"Oh. . Didn't know it did that," the ginger murmured to himself before scooting back up and continuing to dig.

****

"Are you alright, Aziraphale?" Newton turned to Aziraphale as the blond walked into the pool room, a newfound frustration in his step.

"I've been better, but I'll be fine. There's no need to worry," the blond responded before turning to both cops, "one of you, pick up that glove over there," he motioned to the pool chair in which a glove was sprawled under, "and the other one, go into the sauna and steam room to make sure there's nothing to raise suspicions in there. Thank you," he grinned welcomingly at the cops and nodded.

"You really know how to work them," Newton commented.

"Do you know how long I've been doing this? A long time. You pick up on it after a while," Aziraphale jested.

Newton laughed softly, "I'll take your word for it, sir."

And with that, the two of them started searching around as well. In doing so, Aziraphale got the opportunity to explain different things and antics to Newton about the field that the younger male was ready to indulge himself in. The photographer came in time, but the paramedics were taking longer than usual to show. Little to Aziraphale's knowledge, no paramedic was ever contacted.