Chapter Text
“Yikes,” Gadreel said, as they came in through the door. “What happened here?”
“Zebuleon and their two favorite goons paid me a visit,” Aqzirab said. “There was a bit of a fight- your demonic counterpart acquitted himself quite well, actually. Oh, do be a dear, and get rid of the demon trap on the floor, will you? I’m going to put this sword away, and then I need to give this place a good sweeping out.”
Gadreel looked at him incredulously. Perhaps to spite him, after Gadreel had removed the trap and Aqzirab had snapped the furniture and books back into place, he picked up a broom from the stockroom and began to sweep.
“Big plans for tomorrow?” Gadreel asked.
“Oh yes,” Aqzirab replied. “I have ‘accidentally’ double booked a meeting of the Flat Earth Society and the Hollow Earth Society. The fireworks promise to be spectacular.”
And, by keeping the conspiracy groups from doing anything but fighting one another, he prevented them from going mainstream. Gadreel knew better than to point that out.
“I bet you must have gotten along great with Crowley,” Gadreel said. “From what Aziraphale was telling me that’s exactly the sort of thing he’d appreciate.”
“Oh?” Aqzirab asked. “I must confess, aside from the big ones- the Garden, Jesus- we didn’t really discuss our respective works for Hell.”
“Yeah, apparently when they were building the M25 in his world, he realized that it looked very similar to the sigil odegra, so he hacked into things and switched some of the construction markers around so it was the sigil odegra,” Gadreel said.
Aqzirab froze, mid-sweep. “Oh fuck,” he said after a moment. “It does look like that, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t feel too bad about missing that, if I were you,” Gadreel said. “Apparently, that caused the M25 to turn into a ring of Hellfire on the day the Apocalypse was due.”
“Oh, well then,” Aqzirab said, and resumed sweeping.
“So, how did you get on with him, then?” Gadreel asked.
“Just fine,” Aqzirab said. “He was very much like you, really. A different color pallet, of course, and he was a tad more anxious, I think. He had a lot of questions though, so mostly he just reminded me of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, it really seemed to bother him, how similar our timelines were. Every time he came across a significant difference, he wanted it explained in detail so he could figure out how that was different when nothing else was,” Aqzirab said. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. “Eventually I just told him to look it up himself. Ghalittor got his hands all over that, I’m afraid, so if you want a peek at his search history before I shred the thing, now’s your chance.”
“Yeah, alright,” Gadreel said, so Aqzirab tossed him his phone.
Crowley had gone on a wikiwalk, it seemed, starting with the old Canaanite religion and branching out from there. And then, for some reason, he’d visited a page that showed up in the history tab as GADREEL LOOK AT THIS!!!
Gadreel snuck a look at Aqzirab. He was sweeping still, hips swaying slightly as he hummed tunelessly. He made sure that the volume was on the lowest possible setting that wasn’t mute, and opened it up.
It was a video- a video of Crowley which Gadreel had been expecting, really. He snuck another look at Aqzirab and then pressed play.
“Look, I don’t have a lot of time,” Crowley muttered. Gadreel held the phone up close to his face so he could hear. “So I’m just going to say it. He’s in love with you.”
Gadreel nearly dropped the phone.
“He’s in love with you, and I’m pretty sure you are too,” Crowley continued. “I mean, you’re me, albeit a version of me that’s had a really different life, but… he’s still here, and I can’t imagine not loving him, so.” Crowley was silent for a moment. “And he knows you love him. He’s said as much. He just… he doesn’t want to force you to choose between him and your family. He’s said that. And I think- I think you’ve already made your choice, when you cut ties with Heaven.”
“I don’t know what’s holding you back,” Crowley said. “I don’t know if you’re worried about hurting him, or if you’re worried that you’re going to rush into something that really shouldn’t be rushed, or if, maybe I’m just talking myself into talking to Aziraphale about it, but. You should tell him. You should. Because he is never going to make the first move on his own.”
That was the end of the video. Gadreel stared down at the phone for a time, and then he stared at Aqzirab for so long that the demon noticed and turned back to him with a frown.
“Is there a problem, darling?” he asked.
“A problem, no,” Gadreel said cautiously. “But I think there’s something we need to talk about.”
The port was excellent, rich and complex, and potent enough that Aziraphale had undone his bowtie and removed his shoes, and was now giggling his way through some story involving a fire hydrant and baby squid rolls.
Come on Crowley told himself. Do it. Just ask him. What’s the worst he could say, no? Just a flat no, not a not yet?
It was the worst thing Aziraphale could say. Crowley took another glass of port to fortify himself. He had, to date, done that seven times this evening.
He did it twice more before he actually plucked up the courage to say it.
“Say, Aziraphale. You know that place in Brixton? L’Amuse-Bouche?”
“Oh yes, they do some wonderful savory crêpes,” Aziraphale said.
“We should go there, tomorrow, maybe,” Crowley said.
Aziraphale frowned at him.
“I’d never say no to a good crêpe,” he replied. “Is there any particular reason why-”
“I was thinking it could be a date,” Crowley blurted out. Aziraphale blinked at him. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be. We could just go there to eat, but-”
“Just so we’re clear,” Aziraphale said, sitting upright. No small amount of port reappeared in the bottle as he did so. “How different would eating out be, as a date, as opposed to usual?”
“Probably not very different,” Crowley said. “I mean, not the eating part, at least. I might kiss you at the door afterwards. I might kiss you a bit beyond the door, even, if you’d like.”
Aziraphale came and sat down next to him on the settee. He placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek. It was very distracting, that hand.
“Could you sober up, my dear?” he asked. “I- I would very much like for our first kiss to be sober.”
Crowley was so busy smiling that it took him a moment to realize that he would have to sober up before Aziraphale would kiss him. “Yeah! Sure,” he said. “Sure.”
“He’s not wrong, you know,” Raffai said.
Raphael scowled. “You of all people should know that it’s not that simple.”
Raffai laughed. “You of all people should know that it is.”
“It isn’t,” Raphael insisted.
“Yes, it is,” Raffai retorted. “Look, you make very consistent decisions, which very consistently make you miserable. There are some versions of us who will always do that, but there’s no reason why you have to be one of them.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I just closed the door on that,” Raphael pointed out.
“So open it again,” Raffai said. “If he was willing to talk to you after the previous six thousand years of fearful silence, I don’t think one short conversation is going to break him.”
“Perhaps not,” Raphael admitted.
“Just… think about it, okay?” Raffai asked. “Consider the possibility that you do have multiple options to choose from yourself.”
“I will,” Raphael said. He sighed. “Same time next week?”
“Provided Araph doesn’t try to bury me in paperwork,” Raffai said. “She’s always a bit demanding when she’s discorporated.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Raphael said. “Until next time.”
“Until next time.”
With the connection cut, the splendor of the most superficial of layer of the firmament crept back in, the cacophony of stars and galaxies and nebulae. Raphael watched them spin for a time, and remembered a time when they were newly spun into being.
He would make a decision, eventually. He just hoped that it wouldn’t be the wrong one for the universe. He had a duty, after all, to keep the place spinning.