Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was a low binging sound and a note appeared on Gabriel's desktop. Another receipt. Undoubtedly from Aziraphale. The archangel reached out and had a closer look at it.

Gabriel furrowed his brow. Ugh. Aziraphale. Always too lazy to just get up and walk a few steps to get a pack of tissues. He didn't even have tissues, probably. Who still used a silken handkerchief in 1997?

Sighing, Gabriel confirmed the receipt and put it away.

Only a few minutes later, it binged again.

Frowning, Gabriel grabbed the new receipt and examined it further.

Before Gabriel could wonder why in Heaven Aziraphale had needed a silken handkerchief only three minutes prior to having to save someone from a fatal gunshot, there was another bing and another receipt.

Gabriel frowned. What was this no-good of an angel doing down there? Well, at least he seemed to be saving lives. That was a good thing, after all. So Gabriel just confirmed the receipts by signing them and got ready to dive back into his paperwork once more.

A moment later, he was interrupted.

With a frown big enough to hurt his forehead, Gabriel scribbled his signature onto the paper.

“Is he too lazy to turn on his lamp now!” Gabriel cursed and flicked the receipt back on his desktop.

Raphael snickered. “You shouldn't be working anymore at this time of the day,” he told him, and made himself more comfortable on Gabriel's lap so that he could have a better look at his partner's workplace.

“It doesn't matter at which time of the day I receive those, it's the cause for his miracles that upsets me,” Gabriel grumbled. His arm, still thrown around Raphael's back and waist, pulled the other man closer against himself. “I am serious, what has gotten into him today!”

“Why, because he got involved in a cake war?” Raphael asked, the wide grin audible in the tone of his voice. “Let him attend some fun, my darling. At least he is not hiding away again in his bookshop which you despise so much.”

“I don't despise it,” Gabriel clarified. “I just think he spends too much time in it.”

There was another bing to be heard.

Gabriel groaned deeply in annoyance.

“Ah, he's actually doing Good now,” Raphael commented and held the receipt so that Gabriel could read it as well. “Seems it wasn't that he needed the light to find the way through his own bookshop.”

“Maybe he healed his own bone because he was stupid enough to collide with a bookshelf,” Gabriel grumbled. They both new it couldn't be that, because the receipt said 'Lower Tadfield' on it. They both liked to make jokes about Aziraphale's incompetence, though.

Raphael laughed and placed a soft kiss on Gabriel's temple.

Another bing made Gabriel throw his free hand up to his forehead.

“A bike?!”

“Someone must have had an accident with it,” Raphael mused with a grin on his lips. “Unless you want to accuse poor Aziraphale of trying to ride one inside of his bookshop.”

Gabriel shot him a glare. Raphael had never told him, but he and Aziraphale looked very much alike when they were utterly annoyed with a person like that. He smiled and again kissed Gabriel's temple.

“Let's go,” he suggested and slid from his lap. “Let Aziraphale do his work and come back to it tomorrow. I know something that is far more interesting to do than sitting here and waiting for the next miracle to happen.”

Raphael pulled Gabriel away before he could read or complain about the newly arrived receipt on his work desk.

Neither of them would have gotten the meaning of the fact that it didn't just say 'car' on it, anyway.

Gabriel didn't even notice this receipt arriving. He was busy preparing for the Apocalypse.

On Saturday, Aziraphale arrived in Heaven. Gabriel met him briefly, giving him a short glance and nodding at him. Aziraphale nodded back, looking churned. Gabriel assumed it was because he actually had to do something for once now. The days of lazily sitting around in his bookshop, reading some fiction, were over. Armageddon was coming.

Gabriel fastened Raphael's armour. There were only a few more hours left. Soon, the world would be changed forever. The only question was into what.

There had been a lot of confusion going on in Heaven. No one knew what really had happened. All they knew was that the Apocalypse hadn't taken place and that neither them nor Down There seemed willing to really address this touchy situation.

Gabriel and the other archangels had tried to talk to Him about it, but He had only expressed one of His mysterious remarks that sounded as if they came fresh out of a fortune cookie. Something like: “I don't know what you mean, the war you think was cancelled has actually been won by someone.”

Uriel had tried to get another comment out of Him, but He had already gone back to adding another 'happy little tree' to his landscape painting under Bob Ross's friendly, skilful eye. Ever since 1995, it had gotten even harder to talk to Him because of this newly adopted hobby of His.

Gabriel and Michael had just exchanged their usual glance, knowing full well that it was useless to try and make some sense out of His ever so cryptic statement. He knew things they could never even dream of and everything was going like He had planned it from the Beginning. Why bother and try to understand His planning? He would tell them what to do, if there was a need for it.

So things had just gone back to normal. They didn't know if there was going to be another Armageddon soon or not. They didn't know if they were still fighting with Down There over Earth. What they all knew was, though, that they needed to keep the system running, just in case Hell was still running theirs, too. You didn't want to lose a fight just because you didn't know you were still fighting it.

That meant Gabriel was back at his desk, getting his work done. He had always hated the paperwork that came with a carefully run business, but it had to be taken care of so things were all in order.

He didn't notice that his mind was completely off things until a low binging sound caught his attention. Bewildered, he stared at the receipt that had just shown up on the desk in front of him.

It took him a moment to realise Aziraphale must have worked a miracle. Obviously, he was having tea with someone. No, not someone. Crowley. The Serpent. Gabriel remembered seeing them together during the Apocalypse. Why were they sharing a tea time together?

Frowning, Gabriel picked up the receipt between his fingers and studied it.

Maybe Aziraphale was trying to interrogate Crowley to see what Hell was up to. That was actually not a bad idea. As far as Gabriel knew, the two of them had been stationed together on Earth ever since the fall of Eden, they probably knew each other quite well by now. It was likely that Crowley would spill some information if Aziraphale played his cards right. Gabriel should keep a closer look at the receipts concerning Crowley. Maybe he could find out something about Below's doings. That would put all of them Up Here at ease.

He signed the receipt, but kept it on his desktop. Then he searched for a sheet of paper he didn't need anymore, as well as a pen, and started a list.

August 25^th, 15:54: Shared tea time

That would help him keep track. Maybe he would need that information later, to reconstruct Hell's planning. You never knew, especially not when it concerned Below.

August 27^th, 13:11: Walk through park

August 28^th, 17:42: Meeting in Bentley?     | Bentley's a car, must be driving together

August 29^th, 11:56: ?

August 29^th, 19:33: Dinner at Ritz?     | Ritz is restaurant

August 30^th, 15:38: Sharing wine

“You were right, they are spending a lot of time together,” Raphael mused as he took a closer look at the receipts Gabriel had collected. All of them mentioned Crowley in one way or another, be it that Aziraphale prevented something the demon did from happening or made up for it again (the skateboard accident in the park, for example, or almost running over a pedestrian with the Bentley), or that they simply seemed to spend time together (reserving a table at the restaurant or changing the bottle of wine Crowley had brought with him into something of better quality).

“It's quite interesting. Are there any other receipts from the past few days that have nothing to do with Crowley?”

“Yes, a few.”

“Can you show me one?”

Gabriel picked one of the newest that he hadn't yet sent off himself and handed it to Raphael. It read:

“Hmm,” Raphael hummed. “That's exactly what I thought. His receipts usually don't mention what he was using the miracles for that precisely.”

“What do you mean?” Gabriel asked.

“I mean this.” Raphael pointed at the last receipt.

“That's quite an exact description of his miracle. Without Crowley involved, his receipt would just say 'Turning wine into different wine', or maybe even just 'Changing wines'. The receipts concerning Crowley have gotten a lot more detailed, if you ask me.”

Gabriel only frowned and took the receipt for the wine from Raphael.

“Same with this one,” Raphael went on and waved another receipt in his hand. “It does explicitly mention Crowley's name, even though it would not be necessary.”

Gabriel hummed, partly in thought, partly in agreement. “Do you think he's doing that on purpose, so I will know whenever he is with him?” he asked his lover. “I believe he is keeping an eye on him, so he'll know what Below is up to after the failed Apocalypse.”

Raphael raised his brows for a second before the trademark smirk appeared on his lips.

“Well, obviously, that is the only possible reason Aziraphale would spend so much time with the person he has known for around 6000 years now and has worked with so closely during the dawn of the Apocalypse.”

The tone of his voice was clearly sarcastic, but Gabriel didn't understand why. That was the only possible reason, wasn't it? Why was Raphael being so smug about it?

“I should keep an eye on this, shouldn't I?” he asked, a trifle uncertain.

Raphael laughed lowly and handed back the receipts. “Definitely,” he answered and slid off the desk. “And you know what else you should do? You should absolutely keep me posted. I am dying to know what Aziraphale is up to next to monitor this demon.”

“Raphael, I do not understand this,” Gabriel stated and hooked two fingers into the back-pocket of Raphael's pants to stop him in his tracks and pull him towards his desktop. “Read this and tell me what you think of it.”

Raphael smiled and put his hand on Gabriel's back before he leaned over the paper, studying the receipts Gabriel had placed before him.

They read:

“What exactly is your problem in understanding these?” asked Raphael, who found them pretty clear to begin with.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel enquired, looking at the receipts again himself.

“I assume the magazine was something Crowley was not meant to see,” Raphael concluded. “Therefore the distraction with making him drop the takeout.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Heaven?” Gabriel asked. “Any important information he didn't want Crowley to look at? Why else would he make that magazine disappear in panic?"

Raphael laughed. Gabriel was so good at his job, yet so bad when it came to seeing the obvious. Probably because he didn't want to see it. It was too adorable to call him out for it.

“Yes, Gabriel, I am sure that was it,” he told him, shaking his head and grinning widely. “I am sure this magazine was about Heavenly business and the moment Crowley walked in with their dinner that they obviously want to share together, he quickly hid all of the evidence, instead of him simply being embarrassed by whatever it was he was currently reading there.”

Gabriel frowned deeply, not understanding anything Raphael had just said. Most likely because he had no idea what kind of content certain magazines could hold.

Raphael only laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He would tell Gabriel another time that he had a very particular notion of what exactly was actually going on on Earth with these two.

Two days later, Aziraphale stole a flower for Crowley. Gabriel didn't want to believe it, but it actually said so right there on the receipt:

It really said 'for Crowley'. That was the first time Gabriel actually grew concerned about Aziraphale's contact to him.

Maybe this wasn't about keeping an eye on the demon. Sure, the flower could be meant to bribe him, to get more information about Hell and their plans after Armageddon out of him. But stealing a flower? For Crowley?

Gabriel wondered if it said 'for Crowley' on the receipt to make it clear this theft had been meant for a good cause, namely getting vital information for Heaven. But doubt began to gnaw at him, especially since Raphael seemed to be deeply amused about Gabriel's idea with the bribery.

“I think you don't need to worry about him,” Raphael said when Gabriel told him about it. “Aziraphale is doing just fine, and so is Crowley.”

Gabriel asked what Raphael meant by that. But his lover only smirked and let his mouth change the subject.

“Raphael! Raphael, come, quick!”

Raphael was there in an instant. Unlike Gabriel, he didn't look concerned, but rather absolutely curious and thrilled. If Gabriel hadn't been so distraught, he might have been upset about his partner's lack of seriousness.

He took the receipt that just had appeared on his desktop and shoved it towards the angel. Raphael looked at it and then whistled amusedly.

“So he must be at Crowley's home, then,” he assumed.

“So you think so too,” Gabriel stated.

“Where else would he meet explicitly Crowley's plants?”

“Exactly.”

Raphael nodded.

“Why does he make them flourish, though? First he steals a flower, now this.

“Why shouldn't he? Maybe they were in need of a boost.”

(They weren't. But Aziraphale knew that Crowley threatened those poor things and he wanted to make them feel better by giving them a head-start.)

Gabriel cast Raphael his trademark glare, which only made his lover laugh softly.

“I think those plants should be the least of your concerns right now, darling,” he stated and materialised a chair to sit next to Gabriel at his working desk.

Gabriel immediately looked alarmed. “What do you mean 'least of my concerns'? Do you think I should go down there and –“

“No, don't you dare,” Raphael interrupted and took Gabriel's hand in his to soothe him. “I want to see what happens next. I have a feeling this is going to be really interesting.”

Gabriel frowned deeply. He felt like Raphael was in on a joke he didn't get, and felt uncertain whether or not he should let his lover have his fun or interfere for the sake of Heaven. He settled with waiting. Maybe, if he interfered now, he would ruin something Aziraphale had carefully planned.

He would have. It just wasn't what Gabriel had expected the plan to be.

They sat there for a moment until the next miracle left a receipt on Gabriel's desktop.

Raphael chuckled. “Crowley seems to have a poor taste in wine,” he commented, while Gabriel let out a grunt of distress at the fact that they were again sharing wine together. Aziraphale was a hopeless drunkard. Why had he ever thought this angel could be of any good on Earth.

They waited for another receipt to arrive. Gabriel with misgivings, Raphael with excitement. It took quite a while until it finally binged again on the desktop.

Raphael snatched the receipt before Gabriel could have a look at it. He read it, laughed, and then surrendered it to Gabriel's impatient, grabby fingers who ripped it out of Raphael's hand so he could finally read what was written on it, too.

“... Music?” Gabriel muttered, bewildered. “Music? What are they listening to music for! This is ridiculous!”

“I rather want to know what music they are listening too,” hummed Raphael. “If it is something tender or rather something arousing.”

Gabriel stared at him confusedly from the side. “What has that got to do with anything,” he asked him, sounding so far from understanding that it made Raphael chuckle. “I want to know what they are talking about, not what kind of music is playing while they do so!”

Raphael only shook his head in blazing amusement. “I think I could tell what they are talking about if I knew the form of music,” he stated. “Or if they are talking at all, that is, actually.”

Now Gabriel was completely lost. Raphael had to laugh out loud at his expression.

“Finally!” Raphael cheered and held the receipt up in his hand triumphantly. “About bloody time they get it on, I have been waiting for this for hundreds of years!”

“What!” Gabriel snapped and forcefully took the receipt from the other archangel's fingers. “What is – … WHAT!”

Raphael guffawed.

“What is he taking Crowley's clothes off for!”

“Oh, I think you know very well what he's doing that for, honey,” Raphael chuckled. “You're doing it to me often enough yourself.”

Gabriel stared at him. His eyes grew wider and wider. Raphael's grin did too, exponentially.

“You mean they are –“

“Yep.”

“And that all this time they've been –“

“Yep.”

“And that all those miracles were –“

“Yep.”

There was a moment of silence in which Gabriel looked as if he was piecing together the puzzle in his head that now finally turned out to show the right picture. Then he suddenly sprang up from his chair, practically glowing with anger.

Before he could even announce he was going to stop them, though, Raphael slung his arms around his waist and held unto him tightly, nuzzling his ribs with his face.

“Let them be,” he whispered and squeezed him softly. “They are not hurting anybody. They have felt these feelings for such a long time, they are just finally committing themselves to each other.”

“But they cannot do this!” Gabriel exclaimed. “He's a demon! Giving in to his temptation is forbidden!”

“It's not tempting, it is love,” Raphael corrected. “It's not lust, it's not seducing, it's not trying to lure Aziraphale into the darkness. They are in love with each other, Gabriel.”

“But... A demon! He is not supposed to answer to a demon!”

“Yes, a demon. A loving demon, if I may point that out.”

Gabriel snorted accusingly.

“Try to see it the other way round,” Raphael offered. “Instead of blaming Aziraphale to have succumbed to Crowley, how about Crowley having succumbed to Aziraphale? To positive feelings? To love and commitment and honesty?”

Gabriel grumbled, but Raphael felt him waver.

“They have adapted to each other, I admit that,” Raphael went on. “Aziraphale has turned a little darker, but Crowley has turned a little lighter in return as well. Isn't that something? Turning a demon around?”

“He should have smitten him instead,” Gabriel muttered. Raphael knew he was still angry. But pouring his love into him always helped to calm his flaring feelings down.

“I suppose it is alright,” Raphael said with a smile upon his lips, “considering Aziraphale has not fallen yet for being in love with a demon. Maybe it is the right thing to do for an angel to conquer a bad person's dark soul with love.”

Gabriel snorted again, but his defences were ultimately down now. Not because he personally thought Aziraphale's deeds were excusable in any way, but because there seemed to be something right about them or else Aziraphale would have fallen already. He couldn't argue against Raphael's logic, as much as it pained him to admit that.

Sighing deeply, he slumped back down onto his chair and let his forehead fall onto the tabletop. Raphael smirked slightly and patted his back.

“It's okay, darling,” he soothed him and let his hand wander to Gabriel's neck so he could caress it lovingly. “Just take comfort in the fact they will both drive each other insane with their oddness more than once. You know how unbearable either of them can be.”

Gabriel only grunted. Suddenly, he felt very, very tired.

“How about,” he heard Raphael suggest, “we forget about what they are doing and do something nice ourselves instead?” His fingertips sent little sparks down Gabriel's nervous system. He shuddered slightly and gave a low groan.

“Come on. It will distract you. You know that I know how to take your mind off things. Or –“ the grin on his face was audible in his voice at this point “– we can stay here and wait for the next miracle to come in and see if it becomes even more delicate than just getting rid of their clothes.”

Gabriel's head shot up and he glared at him, making Raphael laugh at him once more. He continued to chuckle as his lover grabbed him firmly and hauled him up from his chair, carrying him away from the desk and out of the office, grumbling promising threats at him as he went, some of them peppered with words an angel normally was not supposed to use.

As their own clothes went and they became oblivious to the things that went on on Earth, another miracle happened in Crowley's bedroom. But it was a silent one, one that did not produce a receipt and that was not of the kind angels or demons work when they use supernatural powers. It was a miracle many people before them had felt, whenever they had fallen in this true kind of love, and it was so pure that it was bigger than the rules of Heaven and Hell. It could not be forbidden and could not be ignored.

And tonight, it lived in an angel and a demon.