Chapter Text
December 1999
One millennia ago, when Aziraphale had wondered where he’d be in the year two thousand, this was not what he’d imagined. There were the technological advancements of course- he could have never predicted the printing press or fire arms or electric lights. Counting the changes since the industrial revolution alone could have taken him all night. Then there were other things he wouldn’t have guessed at- the apocalypse, standing up to heaven, his changing relationship with Crowley.
But even then, even if you’d asked him nine years ago where he’d be tonight, he would never have gotten it right. He would never have said: Sitting in a low-rent flat above the Fellowship Hall of a Methodist Church in the northeastern United States, drinking pop and eating crisps as Crowley soundly defeated him at some sort of Virtual Board Game.
And if, somehow he’d been able to come up with that, he would still have missed out on the most important detail. Aziraphale would not have guessed that he would have the appearance of a thirteen-year-old boy or that Crowley would only look eight, and would have no idea who either of them actually were.
“Ezra, you want to play again?” Anthony, for that was the name he went by now, looked hopefully up at him from a golden pair of nearly human eyes. Over the last three years, Aziraphale had grown used to this version of a well known face. Although it did seem to change much more than the last one, growing and reshaping as one might expect from any child aging from five to eight.
Aziraphale quirked an eyebrow at him, “Do I want to play again? After losing to you thrice? Hardly.”
A mischievous and very Crowley grin appeared on the boyish face before Anthony shrugged and shut off the gaming system. Then he fumbled with the television remote, searching for something new to entertain them.
Aziraphale plucked a crisp from the bowl on the coffee table in front of them and thoughtfully plunged it into the three layer Mexican cheese dip beside it. There were worse ways to ring in the new year, all things told. The nosh was passable and even if most of their shared history was gone he was still sharing it with Crowley.
One thousand years ago he wouldn’t have dared to hope for that.
There was a knock on the door and Anthony fumbled the remote, leaving the television on some new millennia broadcast. They both turned to look as the door opened, without either of their say so, and Pastor Elijah Clark popped his head in.
“How you boys holding up? Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”
Elijah Clark was head of the Westwich Methodist Church and the adoptive father of one ‘Ezra Fell’. He was a kind and open hearted man, in most situations, although he had particular ideas about how a boy ought to behave that had caused the occasional head butting with Aziraphale in the past. Just now, however, he looked approvingly at the empty cans of cola and mess of game controllers. Apparently this was how he expected a boy would want to spend New Year’s Eve.
“Of course we’re gonna make it. I’m practically nine,” Anthony said. He had a lot of confidence for a boy who’d passed out at 9:43 the previous December.
Elijah tried not to smile at him, “Right. I shouldn’t have asked. Anyway, if you guys are interested, you’re more than welcome to join the party downstairs and ring in the new millennium with everybody else. Or you can go play with the other kids in the Sunday School room.”
The church had opted to hold a New Year’s Eve celebration this year, on account of the particularly momentous change of date. The gathering was mostly older adults without much else going on in their lives and a few young families who’d jumped at the chance for a party that included free babysitting. They were all gathered down in the Fellowship Hall with a jerry-rigged television and an unfortunate taste in music.
Aziraphale shook his head. “I’d much prefer to enter the new year in present company, thank you, Father. And you know, it’s not actually the new millennium. There was no year 0, the calendar goes straight from 1 B.C. to 1 A.D. So the millennium changeover is actually next year, in 2001.”
Elijah blinked at him a few times as though trying to find the right words. He settled on, “Well, we’ll have to throw huge party again next year then, huh?”
There was a long silence. Then he continued, “Well, just remember we’re right downstairs if you need anything. And your mom and I will come up to get you, Ezra, when the party is over.”
Then he closed the door and left Aziraphale and Anthony alone once more. Anthony wrinkled his nose at the television. “I thought there’d be more music but they just keep cutting to commercials and old guys talking. Why they gotta talk so much?”
“Well, it’s a rather big date, well it shouldn’t be but they’re acting like it is, and I suppose in the grand scheme of thing it’s easy to lose a year here or there.”
“Huh?” said Anthony.
“What I mean is, a new millennium isn’t a very common thing at all. I suppose it might be difficult for you to fathom, since you’ve never seen the turn of a decade let alone a century. But most humans will never see the millennium change over; it’s far too rare an occurrence. In fact this is only the second time it’s happened since anyone took to using the A.D./B.C. way of counting years. And last time hardly anyone was literate enough to care.” Anthony still looked confused. “This is the only time you’ll ever experience it in your… in this life. Even if you live to be five hundred years old. So it’s no wonder they keep talking about it.”
“Oh… wow…” Anthony’s face was scrunched in heavy thought as he tried to wrap his head around that length of time. The importance dawned on his face. “Is that why the computers are getting mad? Should we be doing something special?”
“You needn’t worry about the computers. People who understand that sort of thing have made sure it will all turn out alright. And, well, we are doing something special. If I could live for six millennia I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend them with.”
This time when Anthony wrinkled his nose it was an attempt to hide an embarrassed little smile. “That’s not true.”
“It is. Honestly. Nothing could be truer.”
December 999 A.D.
Aziraphale was a pleasant sort of exhausted, the type that came from a good day’s work. He’d been at it since morning, visiting home and abbey with blessings for the coming year. The humans seemed quite excited about it, though no more than usual. It seemed most of them hadn’t been keeping up with their own calendars. They didn’t realize this one was quite so momentous.
Aziraphale knew, of course. He loved the way humans worked so hard to make sense of their world, finding new ways to mark and measure, order and observe. Besides, the one thousand year mark made a nice little excuse for a few extra blessings here and there. If Gabriel gave him guff about it, he’d have something to write on the paper work.
The bells would be tolling the new year within the hour, and Aziraphale had declared his work over for the day. He passed through the city gates, raising no alarm because he did not want to. The breeze that night was chilly, as one might expect in a northern country such as this, and Aziraphale pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders.
Deciding that one more miracle wouldn’t tip the scale, Aziraphale made himself a small fire the easy way and settled down beside it. He’d brought a small basket, containing a loaf of bread and a spot of cheese with him, and he began to nibble. He hoped that made it look like he wasn’t waiting for someone.
He was though and he’d been looking forward to it for the last six hours. Aziraphale hadn’t expected to run into Crowley; he never did. It always just seemed to happen. Yet there he’d been when Aziraphale had ducked into an inn for warmth: hood pulled down over his eyes, whispering bad ideas into some poor man’s ear. The demon and his victim had been gathered close by the fire and so Aziraphale had had no choice but to get closer. And of course as an angel he couldn’t simply ignore the situation. He’d reminded the man of a chore that needed doing elsewhere and freed him from Crowley’s demonic influence.
At that point it would have been rude to leave, so he’d sat down beside Crowley while he warmed his hands.
“I nearly had him adulterating with the barmaid, angel. Did you have to scare him off?”
Aziraphale had raised his nose in the air. “Of course I did. Think of the poor man’s wife.”
“I did. She’s been shagging the blacksmith of her own accord. Figured I’d level the playing field.” When Aziraphale had responded with no more than a tut, Crowley had pulled his chair in closer.
Suddenly aware of all the eyes around them, Aziraphale had hopped back to his feet. “Oh, well, I’m sorry if I- well, I’m not sorry. It was nice to-well, I… I only came in to get warm.”
Then Crowley had looked at him, smiled just so, and in that moment Aziraphale had become so flushed that he didn’t think he’d ever need to warm up again. Crowley stood, leaned down and whispered, “Meet me on the other side of the gate just before midnight. I’ll bring something so we can ring in the new year right.”
Then he’d kept walking as though he hadn’t said anything at all. Aziraphale had told himself that he would not be joining him, most certainly not, then proceeded to come up with excuses why it would be acceptable. He’d settled on viewing it as keeping the demon out of trouble. Who knew what powers he’d have at such a witching hour? Any angel would do what needed doing to keep him away from the humans.
And so Aziraphale sat, waiting by his little fire, casting glances over his shoulder toward the gate. Waiting.
At just the point when he began to think Crowley had played a cruel trick on him, a lanky shadow sauntered out from the gate. Aziraphale tried to be cross.
“You certainly took your time.”
“I said before midnight. I haven’t heard any bells yet, so it’s still before midnight, init?” Crowley settled carefully beside him and then pulled something out from the folds of his cloak. It was a wooden cup, full to the rim. It must have taken a miracle to move like that without spilling any. “Snuck this out under the alewife’s nose. Thought we could use a little liquid cheer.”
He passed the ale over to Aziraphale who took a sip. It wasn’t like the wines one could get back in the good old days in Rome but it wasn’t bad either. Certainly took the edge off a nippy evening. He handed the mug back, and offered up his basket, “If you’d like a bite to eat, I’ve got a little here.”
“Nah, you keep it. This here’s enough for me.” Crowley gestured to the ale before taking a hardy gulp and licking the foam from his lips. The ale made its way back and forth after that, never daring to run out. They sat in a companionable silence, watching the flickering flames until the city bell rang.
“I suppose that’s it then. We’ve entered the year one thousand.”
Crowley pulled his head back, “We did? When did they decide that? What in the he- What are they measuring from?”
“The birth of Christ, I believe,” Aziraphale told him.
Crowley’s mouth did a funny little down turn as he nodded his head, “Guess that works. Well, then, angel, if we’re in a new millennium-”
Aziraphale, not quite drunk but pleasantly tipsy, interrupted him, “It’s not actually a new millennium. You see, there was no year zero which means-”
“Fine. Either way, what do you think the next thousand’ll bring?” Crowley asked.
“For the two of us?”
The alcohol and the fire must have been getting to the demon because he became rather red in the face. “I meant more for them, but yeah, us too. You and I, I mean.”
Aziraphale didn’t know what else he might have meant by ‘us’. “I can tell you one thing, I won’t be agreeing to that silly suggestion of yours, so don’t bring it up if that’s what you’re angling for.”
“Wasn’t angling,” Crowley insisted. “Not tonight. It’s still a good idea though. Be a lot less work for both of us. But that’s not what I was getting at. Just making conversation.”
Aziraphale squirmed a bit guiltily, then tried to get the moment back. “Well, there’s no telling what will happen with the humans. They’ve come so far since they were just naked in the wilderness. They always seem to be discovering something or making something new. I’ve heard there are some quite amazing things being done in the far east just now. They’ve learned to make things go ‘boom’.”
“Boom?” Crowley repeated. Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he were being made fun of or not, so he ignored it.
“Whatever they come up with I suppose we’re just along for the ride. That’s the hand our respective sides have dealt us.”
“S’not a bad hand, really.” Crowley’s hood had long since come off and he stared now at Aziraphale with a look too heavy to be borne.
The angel giggled because he didn’t know what other sound to make. “Well, uh, I uh, suppose not. It’s been lovely seeing you, but I should be off.”
Mercifully, Crowley did not ask to where. Aziraphale would not have had an answer. Instead, he reached for the hem of Aziraphale’s cloak and looked up at him. “We’ll drink to the next millennium too, alright?”
And against his better judgement, Aziraphale had nodded.
December 1999
This time there was no knock on the door. There was the scratching sound of someone fumbling for the doorknob and then it swung open revealing Anthony’s mother, Maddy Drake. It was no wonder she’d struggled to get inside. Cradled in her arms was a full glass bottle and jumble of plastic champagne flutes.
“Give me a hand, Tony.” She’d hardly needed to ask. He’d vaulted over the back of the couch already and got the bottle from her hands before it could go smashing to the floor.
The boy crinkled his nose, frowning at the beverage label. “You’re not supposed to drink.”
“I know. Sparkling Cider hasn’t got any alcohol in it.” Maddy placed the flutes out on the small dining table and smiled. “Which means, you two can have some with me.”
A few years prior, when Anthony and his mother had still lived with his father, Maddy had sought refuge from his abuse in a variety of narcotics. Although alcohol had not been a particular vice of hers, the program she’d gone through had suggested complete abstinence from such things. Tony had spent a year living with the Clarks before she’d been in a position to move into the small church apartment and be his guardian again. His concern was understandable.
“Are they having champagne downstairs then?” Aziraphale asked.
“Yup.” Maddy paused a moment as she dug through the drawers of her kitchenette, looking for a bottle opener. “I figured I’d come up here before a bunch of old people try to peer pressure me.”
“I doubt you're missing anything. I went with Father to the little Off License when we were running errands. He knows nothing about Champagne. Picked what looked like a simply atrocious vintage.”
Maddy stopped in the middle of filling glasses to give him a bewildered look but ultimately decided not to say anything. Instead, she handed a champagne flute to each of the boys. Aziraphale gave it a sniff and sighed. He had nearly a decade to wait until he could celebrate New Year’s the way he liked.
For his part, Tony held his glass far from his face. “It looks like bubbly pee. I don’t want it.”
“It’s just fancy apple juice, Tony, and it’s for a tradition. You take a sip a midnight. If you don’t like it; you don’t have to finish.” Maddy plopped herself on the couch and her son climbed up to settle in her lap.
It was always a little strange for Aziraphale to see them together. Mostly it was a joy to know his friend was so cherished and happy but, after six millennia of just the two of them, it felt odd. Especially as Aziraphale had found himself increasingly snippy with his own human family, often for reasons he could not explain.
He curled up in his own lonely corner of the sofa and eyed the clock. Just about ten minutes to go then.
“Almost midnight! So, what do you guys think will happen?”
“ ‘Bout the computers exploding?” Anthony asked. He’d been rather intrigued by all the ‘Y2K bug’ reports on television, although the adults kept telling him not to worry about it.
Maddy did so again. “No. It’ll be fine. They had, like, scientists fix it. You don’t need to be scared.”
Anthony looked a little disappointed, as though he’d been half hoping his Furby would rise up to destroy them all.
“Oh, a millennia is such a long time, it’s difficult for most humans to truly fathom. Just looking at the changes the species has made in the past one hundred years is impressive. Let alone if you look back where it was in the thousands. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say there’s something to this computer business and I-”
Maddy and Anthony were looking at him with slight confusion, although neither was rude enough to interrupt. Aziraphale flushed, “Did you just mean in the coming year?”
“Yeah, but if you want to talk the next thousand, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Maddy smiled at him. “Although, you’re right. I’m not very good at imagining that far ahead. Shit, if you’d asked me just ten years ago where I’d be now, I don’t think I would have gotten a single detail right.”
Aziraphale clinked their plastic cups together. “I’m with you there.”
Maddy laughed, “If any three-year-old was thinking ten years in advance, I’d believe it was you.”
“In ten years…” Tony said very slowly, as though the thought was dawning on him in the moment. “We’re going to be all grown up.”
Aziraphale smiled, “I’d hardly consider eighteen all grown up.”
“It is!” Tony insisted. “It counts. And you’ll be twenty-three. That’s really old.”
Maddy, who’d celebrated her thirtieth birthday a few months back, humphed. “It’s not that old. Besides, you don’t have to look that far ahead for some major changes. This time next year, Ezra will be in high school.”
“I’d rather not think about that,” Aziraphale admitted. There was no love lost between him and the middle school experience, but high school seemed rather intimidating. The American film industry made so many pictures about it that he could only imagine it was a rather big deal. That and some of his classmates had already begun to shoot up like weeds. He knew exactly what height he’d reach at some point but just now he seemed to be stalling on the wrong side of puberty. Although, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to that either. If only the new year could bring him straight to 2010 and he could skip such unpleasantness entirely.
“Angel?” Anthony asked, voice unusually small. Aziraphale looked at him curiously, nodding for him to continue. “Just ‘cause you’re going to high school nothing’s gonna change, is it? You and me will still be friends next year and in ten years and forever?”
The television and every human in the room down below them began to chant as one, counting off the last seconds of the millennia. In the peripheral of Aziraphale’s vision the glittering Time Square Ball made its descent. Then there was a chorus of Happy New Years from every direction as Maddy threw her arms into the air.
Anthony and Aziraphale were still looking at one another and so the angel raised his plastic champagne glass in a toast. “All eternity could not stop me from caring about you.”