Chapter Text
history remains, the future beith in flux
Crowley somehow managed to sip the glass of whiskey even while stretched out on the sofa. “Both your assistants are a pain in the ass. Where are they?”
“I recommended they both sleep. Jim wasn’t tired, but is trying it anyway. The Inspector Constable only agreed after I pointed out that real humans sleep.”
“I’m having problems believing that she doesn’t know we know.”
“She’s never been to Earth before.”
Crowley snorted. “Really and the sea is salty.”
“It is salty.” Aziraphale took two sips of his tea.
“Case proved. Angels are naive.”
Aziraphale glared at him. “At least I know what sex is.” He had the satisfaction of watching Crowley almost spill his glass, but quickly realized he was the one going too far.
“Angel!”
“Do be careful. How do we distract Jim and the Inspector.” Back to safer topics.
“Shouldn’t be that difficult. Jim loves to help. Have him be the waiter. He can’t get in too much trouble serving Hors d'oeuvres, can he? The other one…suggest she observe from outside the shop.”
Aziraphale nodded, took two quick sips of tea even as he wished he had something more potent. “You know the demon who took your place?”
“Shax, she’s some mid-level manager with delusions of grandeur.”
“Be that as may.” Aziraphale took another deep breath. “I know I told you the trip itself was uneventful.”
“Outside of learning that Gabriel had visited that pub. Did you ask if he was alone?”
“Alone? No I didn’t. Should I have? But that’s not why I brought it up.”
Crowley looked at him expectantly.
“I met her, Shax. Rather she ambushed me on the road home. I didn’t know it was her.”
“Angel! Really, after all these years you’re still picking up stray demons?”
“She forced me. I couldn’t just run her over.”
“Should you have?”
“Crowley, no I should not have. But…I think she knows we’re hiding Gabriel.” Crowley slammed back the last of his drink and started to pace.
“Shit. You need to cancel the meeting. You have COVID or something. Cancel it. Let Mr. Toupee know you can’t do it.”
“Then I’ll have Heaven breathing down my neck. It’s how I’m, we’re going to make Nina and Maggie…”
“Tell Heaven the miracle didn’t work. Tell them anything…” Crowley turned away.
“Hell won’t do anything.”
“Are you so sure, Angel?”
Aziraphale bit his lip. “The bookshop is still a Heavenly Embassy, There is nothing Hell can do.”
“Except throw legions of demons at the building. Hell is into cannon fodder; they’ll discorporate, kill hundreds of demons. And if that doesn’t work: they’ll kill the humans; destroy Whickber Street; or even destroy London.”
Aziraphale wanted to get up and hug the distraught demon, tell him everything would be okay.
But it wasn’t okay. He was pretty sure Hell wouldn’t attack the bookshop, it was Heaven he was worried about.
***
“Shit.”
Here they were the pair of them trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in…to make a connection, keep Heaven happy. Not that Heaven would ever be happy.
And Nina had to butt in and have her two cents worth. Other people’s love lives were easier than one’s own.
His was so convoluted and complicated, he again wondered…
No wondering. No drinking. Aziraphale was certain Hell wouldn’t do anything, Crowley was certain they would. Did Aziraphale really not remember the prophecy about the devil’s ball.
This whole thing was ridiculous. He grasped the wheel of the Bentley and screamed, beating his head against the wheel. He glanced upward, and in a slightly less loud voice, “DO.NOT.TELL.ME.IT. IS.INEFFABLE.”
Several passerbyers looked at him, so he drove very fast somewhere. That bloody ball.
Episode 5
Seen as separate, but in thine hearts one. Alone and together the future shall be
Jim ran his hands down the soft electric blue jacket Crowley had given him. It felt so different from what he’d been wearing, like tasting hot chocolate for the first time. He turned as Aziraphale tutted.
“That jacket doesn’t match the aesthetic I’m trying to create. He looks like a waiter from a cheesy strip joint.”
“Do tell, Angel, just what do you know about cheesy strip joints?” Crowley had his arms crossed.
Aziraphale blushed, and turned toward the plate with the hors d'oeuvres. He didn’t answer Crowley’s question. “Jim, you need to practice carrying this tray.” Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s hand away from the plate. “No, leave the brie alone.” Jim smiled happily and carefully picked up the silver platter. “Excellent. Now, walk about the room.” Crowley bumped him a couple of times, but Jim’s smile grew as he circumnavigated the room without dropping the plate.
“You can still cancel this,” Crowley said. Jim couldn’t understand why he was so unhappy about the party.
It was going to be fun.
And so it begins,” Aziraphale whispered. “Whether we want it to or not.” Jim noted the way the pair looked at each other, and briefly almost remembered someone looking at him the same way. It was a fleeting moment, and gone.
“Let's get the wine glasses set up,” Aziraphale said quickly.
“You’re not going to let Jim serve them?”
“Absolutely not. And the Inspector?”
“She’s outside, feeling the atmosphere.” A fly buzzed by Jim’s hand, Aziraphale shooed it away.
“And don’t use the trays as fly swats.”
“Bossy, isn’t he?” Jim said to Crowley.
“Not as bossy as his former boss.”
“My former boss is a pussy cat.”
“At least now he is.” Crowley smiled at Aziraphale.
“Is he really a cat?”
“Continue practicing,” Aziraphale said. “I need to talk to Crowley.”
“Why?” Jim asked.
“Because. Just because.”
***
I thought I could find a few minutes after the ball, but after rewatching, I couldn’t find the space, so this scene was adjusted to be before rather than after. Immediately after the previous scene.
Aziraphale clasped at his hands, trying to keep that pretense of calm. Maybe Crowley was right, cancel the bloody ball and it would all go away.
Except it wouldn’t go away. Agnes’s prophecies were fully underway. “Crowley, I can’t do this.”
“Good, I don’t want you to. You shouldn’t have to do this.”
“But there is no one else.” Aziraphale sank down, so he was sitting on the floor. “No one else but us.” He tried to smile as Crowley sat down beside him.
“No one.” Aziraphale looked down at his hands. “I just don’t know if I can do this. I have to lie, obfuscate…Crowley I have to deny you in front of everyone.”
Crowley took his right hand. “It’s your Lawrence Olivier moment. You can do it. Think of the BAFTA you’ll win.”
Aziraphale let himself smile.
“Anyway, you’ve become much better at lying to Heaven.”
“I shouldn’t have to do this at all.” Aziraphale sighed. “I shouldn’t be distressing you.”
“There are a lot of shouldn’ts in this conversation. Heaven shouldn’t be wanting to destroy the Earth. Gabriel shouldn’t be here. Should I go on?” Crowley squeezed his hand.
“No. I know what needs to be done and how. I’m hoping I can talk to the right…”
“Angel, don’t. They’ll break your heart, again.”
“It’s already broken.” Aziraphale wiped his eyes with his free hand. He had to pull himself together, for Crowley’s sake. “I have a way to communicate with the Bentley.”
“Oh? Been messing with my car again? It doesn’t involve yellow, does it?”
“No. Least I don’t think it does. I know it works here on Earth, I’m just praying it works from…” Aziraphale looked upwards. “But why isn’t Hell doing something?”
Crowley gave a dramatic shrug. “Politics. Satan has not been seen since the airbase, and I hear Beezelbub has taken to wandering off. Then there are the usual rumors about backstabbing and betrayals.”
Aziraphale pulled his hand away from Crowley and stood so he could start pacing. “We need to make this dramatic. Heaven needs to believe that I am done with you, that I’ve broken you.”
Crowley remained sitting. “I know.”
“And when we meet before, after…When we meet after they take my memories.” Aziraphale bit his lip at that thought. “I need you to kiss me.”
“Aziraphale, no I can’t.”
“Why? Don’t you want to?”
“Angel, don’t play bloody word games, you know full well the answer is yes, of course I do. But you won’t be able to give me consent.”
“That’s why I’m giving it now.”
“Angel…”
“My endgame plan revolves around that kiss. I find myself looking forward to it.” Aziraphale tried to smile. Once upon a time he had been looking forward to a life with his Demon.
There was a crash, the sound of metal clanging on the floor. “Jim! What did you do?” Aziraphale sprinted to the other room.
Episode 6
Crowley stared at where the lift had been. Was he hoping that Aziraphale would change his mind? Was he acting like the forlorn fool they needed Heaven to think he was?
Had they overdone it? Was it believable? Why had the Metatron told Aziraphale to invite him back to Heaven–was it just another way to make sure they separated? The Metatron had oozed politeness, insincerity, and bullshit. Aziraphale’s performance had been worthy of that BAFTA, so worthy that Crowley briefly wondered if Aziraphale had actually meant it?
Shit. He’d never had a chance to tell Aziraphale of what he’d learned in Heaven. Gabriel had actually stood up to Heaven and, as it turned out, all for a demon. Maybe that was a sign their quest would succeed. Bloody remarkable for the fucking asshole. How had the pair found their happy ending, when…when…Just shit.
Maybe he was still standing by his car, hoping that Agnes’s prophecies had been part of a nightmare and he’d wake up soon.
But he was awake. The nightmare was real. Aziraphale was in danger and there was absolutely nothing he could do to save his angel.
Absolutely bloody nothing.