Chapter Text
February 1991
It all began as Gabriel’s problem. He’d been gifted, by the Almighty herself, with a small glass bottle and an opportunity that he did not want. An opportunity that he might be able to pawn off onto someone else, if only he could manage to do it without seeming ungrateful. The Lord had implied, in that all knowing, unreadable way, that the chance might be taken by anyone in the celestial or infernal hierarchies- but someone had to take it. If no one else volunteered it would be up to the highest ranking of the Archangels. Gabriel hadn’t asked for further clarification.
The Lord spoke rarely and when she did only a fool asked questions.
So here was Gabriel, having struck out in his sales pitch from the highest Seraphim to lowest Foot Soldier, standing in Beelzebub’s office with a smile plastered on his face. If the look in his eyes was utterly manic, hopefully the dim flicker of the lights did something to hide it.
“What I’m offering you here is more than what it seems at face value. This isn’t merely the chance at a human life, a rare opportunity in and of its self, but the chance to do your job better than ever before. That’s right! You, and only you, will understand humanity like no other super natural being. Think of what that’ll mean. A better understanding of the effects of torture, real inner knowledge of temptation, all the information you need to do... whatever else it is you people do down here!”
Beelzebub leaned back in their chair, head lulling to one side as they blinked in disinterest. Gabriel went in for the hard sell. He leaned on the desk between them, recoiled inwardly at the mysterious greasy film that met his hands, and tried to meet Beelzebub’s eye. “Look, you don’t actually like it here, do you? It’s cramped, it smells, it’s too hot, and no one has any fashion sense. You don’t actually like it here.”
The Lord of the Flies shrugged. “It’s better than heaven.”
“It is not better than heaven!” Gabriel breathed deeply, to recenter himself. It would have worked better if the office hadn’t smelled of something rotten. “You’re lying to yourself. Admit it! I’m offering you a chance to get out of here. You live a nice little human life and you could win yourself a ticket home. That’s worth a shot, hmm?”
Something resembling a smile worked its way across Beelzebub’s face. “What’s got you so desperate?”
“I’m not desperate. Angels don’t do desperate,” Gabriel said desperately.
“I’m serious. What happens if you can’t find someone to take your little deal? Will the boss be mad? Will she be sending you on down to join us here?”
“That’s not... that’s not it.”
“But something is ‘it’.” They drummed their fingers on the desk and scowled for a moment, before their eyes lit up and dozens of flies hung unmoving in the air as understanding hit them all at once. “You’ve got to do it then, don’t you? If you can’t find anyone to take your deal, you’re the one heading on up to have a little human life span.”
They laughed, a harsh buzzing noise that did not subside until Gabriel spoke. “Fine! Fine. You’re right. But that’s not going to matter, because someone in this pit has got to be hopeless enough to go for it. I’ll canvas even the lowliest imp. There’s got to be one.”
“There won’t be,” Beelzebub said flatly, all mirth gone. “It sucks down here, sure, but none of us misses heaven either. Certainly, not enough to go through the trial of being human. If I were you, I’d hug your sisters goodbye and start preparing for a trip earthward. You’re not going to find anyone in heaven or hell who wants to be human. The Almighty is a bit of a bitch, huh?”
Gabriel did not dignify that with a response. “There must be someone...”
“No. Sorry. You’re more fucked than those traitors should’ve been the day after the apoca-” Then Beelzebub grinned, the expression so wide and twisted that Gabriel took a step back. They began to mutter. “That could do it. That could work... Idiot, how sure are you that a human life will reroll the dice?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t follow...”
“I mean, are you certain that a demon could end up as an angel or vice versa?”
His pitch already failed, Gabriel spoke truthfully. “Relatively sure. There’s the possibility that you could just end up as a soul like the humans do... But that would mean the Lord was willing to lose me forever and that can’t be true.”
“That could work too.” Beelzebub stood up, prowled around the table, and pulled Gabriel down by the shoulder until they could buzz conspiratorially in his ear. “Listen, if there’re any beings broken enough to want to be human just for the sake of it, it’s those two traitors.”
The memory of Aziraphale spewing fire from his mouth sprung unbidden into Gabriel’s mind. He shuddered. “I hardly think they’ll be willing to listen if I just stroll up and ask for a chat.”
“So, it’ll be a little risky, but think of the benefits. If it’s a sort of reset, they might come out the other side a lot more destructible than they are right now. Might lose their current immunities.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened in comprehension and he smiled despite the cloud of flies infringing on his personal space. “That would be worth it. Only, I’m not sure if the offer is open to more than one person. We’d have to choose.”
Beelzebub began to pace the short distance across their claustrophobic office. Gabriel watched patiently. This sort of malicious planning was best left up to the professionals.
“It’ll have to be Crowley,” they said at last.
“You’re not just saying that because you hate him more?”
“No, see, the angel has more to lose. Could risk falling and all that. I can use that I think, if I play my cards right. Besides, I’ve rather gotten the feeling that the serpent has always envied the humans their Free Will just a little bit. After all, he gave it to them, didn’t he?”
Gabriel shrugged. “I suppose I should pop on up to earth to have a little one on one?”
“No. You’ll probably just fuck it up. I’ll do it. You just go on up to heaven and wait. If I do this right the victim’ll deliver himself before long.”
Gabriel might have objected to the wording, but he had no quibble with the suggestion. The sooner he could get himself back where he belonged and wash the scent of hell from his being, the better.
The Bentley had been idling outside of Aziraphale’s book shop for some twenty minutes before the angel finally got out. Even then, he leaned against one sleek black door and bent at the waist so that he could still see the demon within.
“Thank you again, Crowley, really. Dinner was just delightful. You’ll have to tell me how you find these places.”
Behind his sunglasses, Crowley rolled his eyes and tried not to look pleased with himself. “You don’t have to keep thanking me every time, Angel. It’s getting old.”
“Isn’t that just lovely too, though? That we can do these things often enough now for there to even be an ‘every time’.” He was beaming bright enough to make the full moon jealous and Crowley began to wonder if he’d discorporate if he took his shades off. Then Aziraphale straightened up and said once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. And thank you.”
If Crowley had had to bet he’d say the Angel had said it just to be a bastard. He grinned to himself as he drove off. He was very much enjoying the world post-apocalypse or post-non-apocalypse- whatever you wanted to call it. So many things were twice as enjoyable when you knew they’d nearly been lost- night drives, sitcoms, coin based pranks. Chief among them though, was his time with Aziraphale. With the apocalypse averted there was no reason to see one another anymore and yet they did. Regularly. At the book shop, at St. James, at the Ritz and any other little restaurant Crowley could locate for the occasion. If that was all he had to do in exchange for the angel’s time, it was well worth it. He couldn’t have asked for more.
Well, he could’ve asked for a bit more, but he didn’t.
His wildest dreams might have involved a wide variety of physical contact and more dramatic confessions, but his day to day included leisurely conversations and a welcome increase in hand holding. The dreams weren’t worth the possible loss of reality. Besides, they’d gotten to the handholding after 6,000 years, there was hope yet if he went slow enough. They’d averted the apocalypse; they had all the time in the world.
The Bentley came to a screeching halt outside Crowley’s Mayfair building, and he whistled absentmindedly as he slithered up toward his apartment. The whistling had to be absent minded, if he’d realized that he was treating the neighborhood to a lovesick rendition of “Good Old Fashioned Loverboy” he would have been forced to relocate. As it was, the music died on his lips the moment he opened the door.
Something inside felt very wrong.
It smelled wrong too, and sounded wrong. There was a buzzing and a rotten stench, not unlike strolling past an open rubbish bin at the height of summer. Crowley froze where he was, half-hoping that he’d left something out on the counter the last time Aziraphale had come by for something to eat. He cleaned up magically, of course, but imagining the impossible was far more pleasant than considering the more likely alternative.
He should’ve gotten Aziraphale to give him a replacement thermos of Holy Water. Maybe carried it around in one of those clever little spray bottles some women kept on their keychains. Too late now for brilliant ideas; his best bet was to slink back into the hallway then make a break for Aziraphale. The sweat of his palms made it difficult to close the door and he was interrupted before he could finish.
“I’m not here to hurt you, you coward. I wouldn’t know how if I wanted to.” Beelzebub came out from the shadows, flies clinging about their head. They hadn’t cleaned up like they had for the apocalypse, which probably meant they had no intention of seeing any humans today. Crowley couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad for him.
He also couldn’t decide whether to play up the indestructible bit or go for the safety of fawning respect. Somehow, he wound up at overly practiced nonchalance. He would have to roll with it.
“Lord Beelzebub, didn’t expect to have you round today. Would’ve bought some refreshments or something. I don’t know if there’re any places that have rancid meat on the takeaway menu, but there’s a chippy around the corner that just failed a health inspection which might be to your liking. I can just pop over there and grab-”
“Shut up and don’t try slithering out of here with your lies and your little persuasions. I’ve got some information that I thought would be of interest to you. Might help you keep that angel your wretchedly fond of safe.”
Crowley, who had been seeing how slowly he could back up, went still. “What are you talking about?”
“Thought that would get your attention. Now close the door. I don’t want anyone overhearing us.”
Crowley did as he was told, never so much as looking away from Beelzebub’s face as he flicked on the lights. Beelzebub hissed and winced in the sudden brightness, but Crowley couldn’t savor their discomfort. He was too anxious for what might come next. “Well?”
“Well, that chubby friend of yours has probably found himself back in heaven’s crosshairs.” Crowley had turned and seized the door knob before Beelzebub could continue. “Oh, calm down; it’s not that immediate. Gabriel’s got himself in a bit of a jam is all. The Almighty, cursed be her name, made him the proposition of a one lifetime stint among the humans. He’s been offering it to everyone from heaven’s top floors to the very bowels of hell, and he hasn’t found a taker yet.”
“What’s that got to do with Aziraphale?”
“I’m getting to that. By the time he got to me, the archangel was already seeming pretty desperate. If he can’t find a volunteer he’ll face the Almighty’s wrath and you and I have a pretty good idea of what he has to be afraid of. So he’s got to force it on somebody. It can’t be a demon or Satan’s going to have words with him about jurisdictions. It can’t be some random angel or he’ll cause problems in paradise and get in trouble with his sisters. So that would leave?”
“Aziraphale...”
“There it is. I’ll give you one thing, Crowley, of all your faults you were never stupid. I’m sure you can see the problems it could cause for him, beyond disappearing out of your life for 80 years, give or take. Heaven isn’t too keen on him, aren’t likely to let him back in if they can help it. They’ll send every hurdle they can think of at him, give him every reason to take up a life of sin. Then, even if he manages to lead a mostly blameless life, they’ll find one little hiccup and use it to throw him our way.”
Hard as it was too imagine Aziraphale earning a spot in hell, it was plenty easy to imagine Gabriel finding some excuse to send him anyway. He’d say Aziraphale ate too much or argued too much or spent too much time reading fiction. Crowley’s mind was racing now, scrabbling for solutions, escapes, some way to keep his angel with him. His train of thought only paused when it pulled in at a new station.
“Wait. Why are you telling me this?”
“Easy. I hate you, I tried to kill you, it didn’t work, and now I’ve found a way to get rid of you- at least for a little while anyway.”
“Get rid of me?”
“I told you Gabriel wanted a volunteer, didn’t I? All you’ve got to do is jump first and nobody’ll have to be pushed. Your angel’s safe, I get to be rid of you for almost a century, and you get a little Free Will on the side. Win, win, win.”
Crowley could feel the anxiety bob in his throat as he swallowed . It would be less of a risk for him, really. Heaven would never let him in, so he’d just end up back in hell when all was said and done. Then he could just walk out and go back to his current life like nothing had ever happened. Hell wouldn’t be able to stop him; they were still frightened. That was clear enough from the distance Beelzebub had kept between them. If it had to be him or Aziraphale, then there really wasn’t any choice at all.
“I’ll... I’ll consider it.”
Beelzebub shrugged. “It’s no skin off my nose either way. Just take the up escalator if you’re interested. Gabriel will know why you’re there.”
Then the floor opened up and swallowed Beelzebub whole. Crowley was left alone. The tension that he’d held since first opening the door to his flat overwhelmed him then and he slumped to the floor in a heap.
Crowley should’ve spoken to Aziraphale first- should’ve but didn’t. He’d been too afraid that Aziraphale might successfully talk him out of it. Instead, he’d slept fitfully, got in his car and driven to work.
Then taken the up escalator.
The guards who met him at the top had been too surprised to even draw their swords. They’d just stared, blinking with bewilderment, swords still hung at their belts, until Gabriel arrived to whisk Crowley away.
Now here they were, in some private space, just the two of them, away from prying eyes and straining ears. It was difficult to have a one on one conversation when Crowley could hardly look at the bastard’s smug face, but he’d been trying his best.
“It seems that Beelzebub explained things pretty clearly, actually. I’m glad that someone is interested in the offer even if it’s...” There was a long pause in which Gabriel gave Crowley an appraising look. “...you.”
“Right. So, how does this work exactly?”
Gabriel pulled a small bottle, more of a vial really, from an inner pocket in the jacket of his suit. Crowley fought the instinct to flinch and back away. He couldn’t go letting just anyone know that he still had every reason to fear holy water. But then, that wasn’t exactly what Gabriel was holding, was it?
On closer inspection this liquid had color, although exactly which color Crowley could not have said. It shifted, now tinted red, now yellow, now black. Never any one thing long enough to give a sense of certainty. Crowley must have been entranced by it, because Gabriel laughed.
“The Lord gave me this. All you’ve got to do is drink it all down and the next thing you’ll know you’ll be wailing in some doctor’s arms without the ability to lift your own head up.”
“However did you fail to persuade anyone?” Crowley said, sarcasm a welcome relief from thinking too hard about what Gabriel had just implied.
The joke didn’t land. “I don’t know; I’m usually very persuasive. Anyway, here you go. Just drink that on up and let’s be done with it.”
He tried to press the bottle into Crowley’s hand, but Crowley stepped back. “Now? Right now? I haven’t even... I still... I have a car so... There are things I need to do first.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “This can’t wait for all that. Let’s just head down to earth, you can tell Aziraphale what he needs to do, and then we’ll get it over with there. Will that work?”
“Yeah,” Crowley said, “Ok.”
He’d have said more if he hadn’t still half been in shock. It didn’t help any when Gabriel snapped his fingers and a moment later the two of them were standing in the streets of London in view of Aziraphale’s book shop. Now he was in shock and he was anxious. This wasn’t supposed to be happening this fast. He’d had a plan of how to tell Aziraphale. It had involved wine and pastries. It certainly hadn’t involved strolling into the book shop in the middle of the day with one of the few beings Aziraphale actually despised.
But there wasn’t any stopping it now. Gabriel was walking down the street, Gabriel was pushing open the door, and then there was Aziraphale staring at them with a half-shelved book clutched in one hand. If the way his mouth opened and closed were any indication, he was in shock too.
For a moment, no one said anything. Then Gabriel became impatient.
“Aziraphale I know this comes as a bit of a surprise, but I assure you I had no desire to ever see you again either. Unfortunately, some things have come up and now your um... demon needs to have a little conversation.” Silence again. “Demon, you have something to say?”
Crowley blinked at him, once, very slowly. “Right. Erm, could you step out maybe? Give us a bit of privacy?”
“I guess,” Gabriel said. “But don’t take too long. And don’t try to pull something sneaky. I’ll be just outside.”
Neither Aziraphale nor Crowley said anything until the little bell was done tingling to announce Gabriel’s departure. Then they both tried to speak at once.
“Crowley, what on earth-”
“Angel, listen, I was-”
They both went silent again, until Aziraphale came closer, took Crowley’s hand and said gently, “Is everything alright?”
His eyes were very blue, very earnest, and very worried. They made Crowley’s stomach twist. If he spoke calmly enough maybe the concern would go away. “It’s not half as bad as it looks, really, Angel. There’s, er, well, you see, last night when I got home Beelzebub payed a visit and-”
All the color left Aziraphale’s face and a bit of anger joined the other emotions in his eyes. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
“No! No. Nonono. Nothing like that. It’s just they told me Gabriel had a little opportunity that I might be interested in and I was actually kind of interested...”
Aziraphale leaned back, as though seeing a bit more of Crowley might cause what he was saying to make more sense. If the arch of his brow was any indication, it hadn’t worked. Crowley tried to look calm, cool, collected.
“You see, Angel, seems your boss has given Gabriel a little chance at a human life. You know, just one life span, and then back to business. And...” He could tell Aziraphale the whole bit about him being in danger, about how Crowley was doing it for him, but then that worried look wouldn’t go away. It’d get worse because Aziraphale would certainly turn it on himself. So, Crowley bent the truth a little. “And I figured that’s just not the kind of opportunity you pass up. I mean, think about it, that’s like what 80 years of no holds barred Free Will. That’s a once in an eternity offer, Angel.”
For a fleeting moment Aziraphale looked hurt. For a millisecond Crowley thought he might cry. But the expression was gone almost immediately, replaced by a warm supportive smile. If he’d been able to look Crowley in the eye, the demon might have bought it.
“That does sound... truly amazing, my dear. You’ve always, admired Free Will, haven’t you? I mean you essentially gave it to them. And I suppose we’ve gone much longer without seeing one another before... And you’re certain it’ll all go back to usual once it’s over?”
Crowley nodded more enthusiastically than might be believable. “Right! It’ll just be like a fun metaphysical trip.”
“And since Gabriel came with you... Is this all going to happen soon?” He couldn’t quite keep the smile up.
Crowley looked away. “Yeah, I hadn’t realized that when I agreed. Gabriel didn’t even want me to come here, actually, but I said I needed you to take care of some things for me.”
“Oh, is that all this was about?” Aziraphale’s voice was cold.
“Course not. Angel, I-” Crowley never got to decide how to finish that sentence. The shop bell tinkled and Gabriel stepped back into the room. Crowley tried to catch Aziraphale’s eye as the archangel strode toward them, but he was too busy glaring daggers at Gabriel.
“Well that seemed like more than enough time to me. Let’s get all this over with.” He held the little vial out between Aziraphale and Crowley.
Crowley grabbed it, wanting the one weapon that heaven might wield against his angel out of Gabriel’s hands as soon as possible. Aziraphale turned, voice heavy with pleading, “Crowley are you absolutely certain that-”
He was. Crowley popped the little glass stopper out, leaned forward, kissed Aziraphale on the cheek, and then downed the entire bottle before anyone else could react.
Then he was gone. The bottle fell to the floor. It did not shatter. The stopper returned. Slowly it refilled.