Us Though the Millennia

1793 A.D

Paris, France

"You do realise that Angels don't have souls to collect right?" Hope said, leaning against the wall, observing her angel friend who was cuffed to a chair. "I can't exactly help you know. Unlike you guys, I can't just click my fingers and unlock something." She clicked her fingers as she said that. "Can't you just free yourself?"
"Oh...I would love to. But I've been reprimanded. Getting a bodies head cut off will get me on the no hire list for at least a very centuries. I don't think I could handle being in heaven for to long." The angel said, flinching at the sound of the guillotine dropping from outside.
"Oh yeah. The almighty loves the sound of music, right? I mean I love it but not that much."
"It's not just that. Heavens to clean. I need more then three shades of white in my life."
"That's fair." The reaper agreed.

Before they could pick up their conversation again, a loud squeak was heard as the iron door to the cell opened up. A larger man walked in. We was wearing a red coat and a sash of the France flag. He continued to speak in French.
"Well this guys ideas are definitely interesting..." Hope, who was sitting on the dirt floor and watching the interaction, told Aziraphale. Luckily, her reaper heritage gave her the ability to understand all spoken human languages. This made her job much easier.
Aziraphale quickly tried to say something in very broken French. In fact, it sounded like he took English, put a bad accent over it, rolled his r's and called it a day.

The man quickly shushed him. "I speak English." Another slicing sound was heard, followed by screams. "Listen to that, the fall of the guillotine blade. Is it not terrible?"
"Yes...Yes! Cutting off that poor women's head like that. Terrible."
"That is Pierre. An amateur. Always, he let go of the rope to soon." The man took a step closer to the angel, who was getting more and more restless. "You are lucky that it is I, Jean-Claude, who will be removing your traitorous head from your shoulders."
Aziraphale started shaking his head. "Look, this is all a terrible mistake. I don't think you understand..." The human cut him off.
"I have good news for you. Your are the 999th aristo to die by my hand, but the first English."
"Oh. Did you hear that Zira? See if you can get a coupon. Buy your first decapitation, get the second half off?" The angel gave her a disappointed look as the human started to unchain him.
"Oh come on. That was funny."

"Please. No! Huge mistake disincorporating me. Oh, it will be a complete nightmare." The angel sighed. Just as he did that, time seemed to stop. "Animals..."
"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines angel. Only humans do that."
"Crowley." The reaper and angel replied in unison, though one was more excited and the other was more relieved. They both turned to look at the demon, who was sitting on a ledge.

"Oh. Good Lord." Aziraphale rolled his eyes.
"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille. I thought you were opening a book shop. And you missy. Shouldn't you be out there collecting souls."
"I'm on lunch break." The reaper stated matter of factly. "It's been a long day."
"I was setting up my book shop, but I got peckish."
"Peckish." The demon echoed in disbelief.
"Well if you must know, it was the crepes. Can't find any decent ones in London so I thought I'd pop over."
"In the middle of a revolution, dressed like that? Even Hope has the right idea and she's not even visible to the humans."
"I have standards." The angel pointed out, sitting down on the wooden chair again. "I heard they were getting a bit carried away over here, but cutting people's heads off. Really?"
"Yeah...this is not getting carried away. This is chopping lots of peoples heads off very efficiently with a large head cutting machine." The demon clicked his tongue. "Why not just perform a miracle and go home?"

"Oh, get this. He's been reprimanded. No more miracles for Zira." The reaper teased, sitting down next to Crowley.
"Reprimanded?"
"For performing to many frivolous miracles...Got a very strongly worded note from Gabriel."
"Well your lucky I was in the area."
"I suppose I am." The angel admitted. "So...why are you here?"
"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance."
"So this is your demonic work?" Aziraphale exclaimed, a bit upset.
"No! The humans thought it up themselves. Had nothing to do with me."
"So...letting the humans runs muck and claiming it as your own. I like your style." The reaper approved.

The demon clicked his fingers and freed Aziraphale from his chains. "I suppose I should say thank you."
"Don't say that." Crowley got to his feet quite quickly and walked over to the angel who was rubbing is raw wrists. "If my lot find out I helped an angel I'll be the one in trouble and my lot do not send rude notes."
"Well either way, I'm grateful." Aziraphale concluded.
"Right so crepes." The reaper took a step forward, clapping her hands together then rubbing them. '"Never tried them. What do you say?"

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley, expectantly, who begrudgingly agreed. "Just change first."
Aziraphale looked down at his outfits and sighed, clicking his fingers to swap clothing with the human.
"So...let me get this straight. You can change clothing to get crepes but can't free yourself from disincorporation?"
"Well, barely counts as a miracle really." The angel said, stepping away and fixing up his new coat as time progressed.

The trio watched as the guards came and and took the old man out to be killed.
"Dressed like that he's asking for trouble."
The reaper grumbled, pulling out her list and scribbling guys name down. "You demons and angles. Always messing with our lists." She put the list away before turning to the two other entities. "I'll collect him later. Shall we?" She linked arms with the two as they left the cell. Not a worry in the world.