Chapter Text
The present day, 8:47pm
Only a few months had past since hell’s last interference with the village of North Mundham before there was another unexpected knock in the middle of the evening. The disgruntled fist pounded on the door of East Gate Cottage. It’s door opened a sliver, and then swung inwards fully, revealing the robed demon behind it.
‘Hi neighbour.’ Crowley smirked at Doris Savage over his tea. ‘Come to borrow a cup of sugar?’
‘Anthony,’ she nodded disdainfully, ‘this is a dire situation indeed. An unholy force is once again at work in our village.’
Doris waited expectantly to be urged to continue with her very worrying and exciting news. Crowley took a loud and prolonged sip of his tea. He lowered his cup and made a satisfied ‘Ahh’. Doris made to speak again and he quickly began another prolonged and gurgling sip.
‘Is your husband in?’ Doris said over the gurgling as she tried to peak around the door frame ‘I’m sure he would be quicker on the uptake of these things.’
Although the neighbourly relations between Mrs Savage and her supernatural neighbours had been vastly improved since the events of the last Mundham & District Gala & Flower Show, sustaining any sort of goodwill between a reformed demon and a Savage was proving very difficult. Their most recent discrepancy involved an overhanging tree, and a misunderstanding of who would be the one to pay the tree surgeon.
‘Ah Mrs Savage!’ Aziraphale appeared, still in his normal day attire. ‘Come in out of the cold. Crowley, do put the kettle on, won't you my dear boy?’
Crowley gaped and spluttered before sulking off to the kitchen, muttering something about betrayal as he went.
‘My dear Mrs Savage, to what do we owe the pleasure?’ Said the angel as he helped his neighbour to the chair next to his.
‘Oh, please, call me Doris.’ She patted his knee affectionately ‘I am afraid I come today with grave news. The Horse has been burnt to a crisp - with fire from the deepest hell. Oh, three sugars in mine if you please, Anthony’
Crowley scoffed in outrage to be asked to further tend to the tea he had just plonked down on the table.
‘Oh and would you mind fetching us the madeleines from the pantry?’ The angel added.
In brimming fury, the demon shovelled three spoonfuls of sugar into one of the cups, before stomping into the other room.
‘Ahem, as I was saying,’ Doris began again, ‘ fires from the deepest hell. Not a soul could put it out even slightly , until the pub was completely burnt to cinders. After that, whoosh’ Doris waved her hands ‘the fire was gone. ’
‘When you say the Horse, you mean the drinking establishment in the village: The Horse and other Horses ?’
‘That’s the one! A pinnacle of our community!’
‘I wasn’t aware you ever frequented it’
‘God, no, full of all sorts of riff raff. Wouldn’t go if you forced me. But you can’t deny it, can you,’ Doris leant forward conspiratorially ‘the hellish interference. As the guardian angels of the village - you must feel it.’
‘Oho well, one can’t be too sure’ Aziraphale still had mixed feelings about his and Crowley's new role that Doris had apparently enforced on them.
‘Well surely God has told you, even if you can’t feel it?’
‘Ah well, God works in very mysterious ways, you see…’
‘And that’s not all’ she said as Crowley came back, practically slammed the packet of madeleines on the table, and threw himself across the sofa, ‘I saw them - the demons. At least I’m sure they were. A tall man and a short bald one, definitely not from around here. I saw them skulking around by the canal not half an hour before it happened this very evening!’
Crowley sat up straight and Aziraphale shot him a look of total panic. Doris, pleased that her story had finally had the desired effect, took a satisfied swig of tea. The swig turned into several choking gulps as Crowley seized the cup and began forcing the tea down Mrs Savage’s throat.
‘Thanks for stopping by Mrs Savage. Such a shame you have to go so soon I’m sure we’ll see you at the All Hallows’ Day Service.’ Crowley led a gargling Mrs Savage to the front door. ‘Bye’ he said as he slammed it shut. As an afterthought he picked up a handful madeleines, opened the door, chucked them at a dazed Mrs Savage, and slammed it shut once more.
‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale chided, unsure whether he was more displeased about the treatment of Mrs Savage or the treatment of his madeleines. ‘That was so rude! And since when were you going to the All Hallows’ Day Service?’
‘What? Oh, of course I’m not, who cares! You see what’s happening, don’t you?’
‘Yes of course I do!’
‘And you know that this is entirely our fault.’
‘Oh Lord,’ Aziraphale put his head in his hands ‘what have we done.’
*******
Several weeks previously
Aziraphale sat in the second row of pews, listening to Reverend Acres speak. In his 2000 years of experience of Christianity there was hardly a sermon he hadn’t heard - yet Reverend Acres had on a few occasions surprised him with the profundity of even the simplest of messages. So for the first time in a few decades he had become a regular part of a church congregation. Crowley naturally stayed at home and often made something nice for Sunday lunch - seeing as Aziraphale was no longer allowed in the kitchen.
‘And the greatest of these is love’ the Reverend ended her reading from Corinthians. ‘As Paul said it never fails. God is love and it is love that turns Paul from his murderous rampage into the very pillar of the early church.’
Aziraphale remembered Paul’s murderous rampage against the early Christians quite well, but hadn’t met him after his conversion.
‘Love is miraculous. We are called to love our enemies because love changes us and them. I would challenge you today to ask - who are your enemies?’ Several heads turned towards Doris. She could almost be seen muttering under her breath Anthony Crowley like a prayer. ‘Identify who they are, and find ways this week of introducing love into their life. And watch to see what happens next!’
I wonder, the angel thought to himself, whether now this might actually work…
*******
‘Crowley!’ The angel burst into the house in feverous zeal. ‘I have just been an absolutely wonderful morning service and I have had an aaaaaaa-‘ Aziraphale was well and truly thrown off his train of thought by the vision of Crowley carrying a tray of yorkshire puddings.
‘Go wash your hands’
‘I’m not a child, Crowley’ The angel said as he washed his hands very quickly and hurried to the table.
‘With soap, angel. ’ Aziraphale sighed and went once again to the kitchen sink.
‘As I was saying,’ said the angel as he sat at the table and heaped four yorkshire puddings onto his plate with the rest of his roast dinner.
‘Grace, angel?’ Crowley folded his hands, his face deadpan beneath his glasses. Aziraphale put down his knife and fork.
‘You are mocking me and I do not appreciate it.’ He met the demon’s stare and pouted. Crowley put his hands together.
‘Hello Lord, it is I, Crowley. I do apologise for this heathen, but he is one of yours, so he should know better. Rubba dub dub, thanks for the grub.’ And he began to eat. Azirapahale muttered something about falling twice and tucked into his Sunday roast.
‘Dee Ememny!’ Aziraphale remembered his idea only once he had a large roast potato in his mouth. He swallowed is too hastily and had to gulp down some of his glass of white wine. ‘ Loving your enemy!’ He eventually gasped.
Crowley put down his wine glass.
‘Really angel, after all these years this is the teaching of Christ that has finally sunk in? We are literally living in the same house. I cooked you lunch. We stopped Armageddon twice (sort of). You got us matching robes! I thought we were on the same page here? Our own side now - remember? How dense are you that only now-’
‘Not YOU, you silly sod of a serpent, no! I’m talking about OUR enemies now ! Love - it changes things.’
Crowley took off his glasses, folded them and put them on the table.
‘Excuse me’ he said ‘are you suggesting we try and befriend the very ones who tried to literally kill us a couple of months ago?’
‘Well, I mean, not exactly -’
‘Who, if it weren’t for the fact that you tried to cut a pumpkin with a butter knife instead of a real knife, would have actually succeeded in killing us.’
‘It must be considered that we were all right in the end .’
‘What, you’re suggesting that if we get Beelzebub a box of Dairy Milk chocolates, they’re gonna suddenly agree to play squash with us?’
‘Obviously not!’
‘Oh well, why don’t we send Gabriel a decorative gourd for his cabinet, he’ll love that!’
‘We don’t have any! You shot them!’
‘You’re being absolutely ridiculous, angel!’
‘ You’re being ridiculous!’
‘No!’ Crowley stood up and picked up the tray of yorkshire puddings ‘You are being the most ridiculous.’
‘What are you doing with those!’ Azirapahale stood and tried to stop the demon as he took away the soft and golden savoury puddings into the kitchen. ‘ Listen wont you! I’m not suggesting that we attempt to befriend the enemy - only that perhaps if the enemy was in a position like ours… well… perhaps they would be more sympathetic towards our cause.’
The demon stopped in front of the bin.
‘A position like ours?’ He asked.
‘Yes, like ours. I mean of course in the way that we once were: where we had a friend on the opposite side.’
Crowley, much to Aziraphale’s relief, put the tray on the side. He turned and sighed.
‘That’s a nice thought angel, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen. The others aren’t like me - well, not really. They enjoy all this stuff. Like really enjoy being evil. And you, you’re not like the other angels.’
‘We have had our disagreements, but I’m sure that when it comes down to it -’
‘- There is absolutely no way a demon would ever even think to befriend and angel, or vice versa. And who! And how! What shall I do just stride up to Hastur and…’ Crowley was suddenly lost in thought. He stared at the ground. Aziraphale took this opportunity to sneak two more Yorkshire puddings into his waistcoat pockets. He jumped as Crowley suddenly began to laugh. It was a dirty laugh that was usually reserved for things that were not only hilarious, but also rather evil. It was not Aziraphale’s favourite laugh.
‘You know, angel, you are right. If we set this thing up correctly - I do think we can make an angel and a demon be friends.’
‘Oh really?’ Aziraphale took a worried bite of another yorkshire ‘Wiff ones?’