Chapter Text
The living room had smelled of sawdust when Aziraphale first entered it, slung over the shoulder of the room’s first inhabitant. Adam Old, that man had been called. The first thing Aziraphale had ever done was blow away the remains of that sawdust, cooling the people below as he did.
Adam Old had been proud of the house, and the family who lived with him in it. After his death his daughter had inherited the house, and then her son. Over time the old shutters were ripped off, the walls repainted. Aziraphale stayed through it all, faithfully cooling Adam Old’s descendants, summer after hot summer.
When Adam Old’s great-great granddaughter Mina lived in the house with her family, Aziraphale began to hear the first complaints about his performance. Oh, they didn’t say it was about him, of course, that would have been rude. Yet first the children, and then the adults began to make subtle digs about the temperature in the summer. Aziraphale was affronted. It wasn’t his fault that summers were so much warmer now. Still, he loved the family, so he made sure to put good effort into his air circulation.
It wasn’t enough. Early the next summer, several strange humans showed up and began making rather a lot of noise, both inside and outside the house. Aziraphale watched in bafflement — and growing alarm — as they brought in a large black object and fastened it to the wall.
After the strange humans left, the family assembled in the living room as Mina picked up a small rectangular object and pointed it at the black box. There was a beep, and the box began to make a whsssssh noise. After another moment, it started emitting cool air. The family cheered and danced around. Aziraphale, blades still, power off, watched them with a sinking feeling.
The humans lost interest quickly, going back to their regular pursuits of chasing each other, sitting on the furniture, and reading books. Aziraphale, feeling somewhat forgotten, continued to watch the black box. Finally, deciding it was better to be overly polite than the alternative, he decided he might as well speak first.
Hello, newcomer.
The box’s airflow stuttered briefly. Then, to Aziraphale’s considerable relief — he hadn’t known if it was the sort that would understand him — it said, Hi.
Aziraphale couldn’t help spinning his blades just a little bit to the side in delight. Oh, you can hear me! Wonderful! I’m Aziraphale.
Crowley, the box said. Anthony Crowley. AC. Whatever.
Crowley, Aziraphale said happily. It’s lovely to meet you.
~
That night, after the humans had left for the beds, leaving both Aziraphale and Crowley switched off, Aziraphale asked tentatively, What are you, exactly?
I, Crowley said with no small pride, am a split air conditioner.
Pardon? Aziraphale had never heard those words used in that particular configuration before.
I take in air from the outside and cool it before sending it in here.
Oh. Aziraphale felt his mood drop abruptly. That was so much more useful than just pushing air around willy-nilly. How long until he was truly obsolete and the humans got rid of him?
What are you?
Aziraphale had never considered that Crowley might not know what a ceiling fan was. It was the most obvious thing in the world. I’m a ceiling fan. I circulate air through the room so that it feels cooler.
You don’t cool your own air? Crowley sounded mildly shocked.
No, Aziraphale said, a little defensively. I’ll have you know I’ve been cooling this room for nearly a hundred years, and I don’t appreciate-
Hey, no, I’m not going after your efficiency, Crowley interrupted. Just surprised.
You can be surprised a little more quietly, then, Aziraphale snapped. He wished he could turn his back on the air conditioner, like he’d seen the children do when they were angry with one another, but he was just as securely bolted to the ceiling as he always had been. He settled for maintaining an icy silence.
He couldn’t help but feel like a silence from Crowley would have been icier.
~
The next few days only served to push Aziraphale further into his dark mood. The humans ran the new air conditioner almost constantly, and Aziraphale wasn’t even turned on once. A few more days and he would start gathering dust.
He couldn’t bring himself to talk to Crowley. It wasn’t fair, he knew. It wasn’t Crowley’s fault that the humans liked him best. All the same, Aziraphale spent most of his time in silence.
On the fourth day after Crowley’s arrival, one of the humans pulled the tartan-highlighted chain to turn Aziraphale on. Aziraphale could only look on in pleased astonishment as he started to spin, the beginnings of dust that had begun to settle on his blades flying away in the wind.
“The fan will push more of the cool air around,” he heard the human tell one of the others. “It’ll be even better that way!”
We can work together, Aziraphale said wonderingly. The humans figured it out.
Awfully clever, aren’t they? Crowley asked.
Aziraphale blew cool air at his humans, pleased. They really are. He hesitated. How are you liking it here so far?
Oh, very interesting, Crowley said. They do so many things in here. Did I see one of the small ones sit on one of the other small ones yesterday?
Probably, Aziraphale said. He hadn’t been watching, but it was the kind of thing they would do.
Why?
Aziraphale pondered this. I think they like it. Maybe it makes them stronger.
Do humans want to be stronger?
A lot of them do, Aziraphale said, pleased to have his long experience being put to use. That way they can lift bigger things.
Crowley was silent for several minutes, apparently digesting this. Finally he said, You’ve been here for a hundred years? How long is that?
A very long time, Aziraphale said seriously. Longer than these humans, or the humans that came before them, or the ones before them.
Wow. Crowley sounded grudgingly impressed. I used to be at an appliance store.
Aziraphale was momentarily stumped. He wasn’t quite ready to give up his newfound advantage of knowledge over the new air conditioner, but he also found himself rather deathly curious as to what an “appliance store” was.
Curiosity won out. What’s an appliance store?
It’s a big place filled with air conditioners, Crowley said proudly. All kinds. Big and small and different colors. Most of them are white. I think that’s boring. I like my color scheme.
I like your color scheme too, Aziraphale said before he could think better of it.
Crowley gave a pleased whrrr and said, almost shyly, I like yours.
But I’m just plain old wood. Not shiny like you.
You are shiny, Crowley protested. The wood glows, almost.
Aziraphale didn’t know what to say to that, but he spun a little faster for a minute.
~
After that day, Aziraphale and Crowley were usually switched on in tandem, and Aziraphale quickly gave up on his initial frigidity towards the air conditioner. It was nice to have someone to share the work with, and the lack of complaints about the heat did wonders for one’s mood. Sometimes he remembered that without Crowley the complaints would still be running rampant and felt inadequate all over again, but it was hard for the feeling to stick with a friend right there to talk to.
Aziraphale had never had a friend. He had had brief conversations with television remotes and on one memorable occasion, a toaster, but they were always moving on, and they’d never had much to talk about in the first place. Now that he had Crowley, he was finding that he quite liked it. They talked day in and day out, whether they were turned on or not. It wasn’t long until Aziraphale knew all of Crowley’s backstory, from the factory to Mina’s house. Aziraphale took longer telling his, mostly because there was more to tell.
Crowley was fascinated by the idea that the walls used to be a different color. They can change that? he asked. Then, a little nervously, Can they change my color?
Probably, Aziraphale said honestly. But they’ve never changed mine, so I don’t see why they’d start with either of us now.
On a different occasion, Aziraphale had managed to swing his snazzy tartan pull-chain into Crowley’s view to show it off. The air conditioner had laughed so hard that Aziraphale would have been offended if it had been a few weeks earlier. As it was, he demanded to know what was so funny.
It’s just, Crowley said, still sounding far too amused, that even I know that’s not stylish. Hilariously un-stylish.
Well, I think it looks excellent, Aziraphale said tartly. It’s the only bit of decoration I’ve ever gotten to keep, anyhow.
Crowley stopped laughing. Do you get decorated often?
From time to time, Aziraphale said. Usually by the children. The parents take it off, after.
Oh. Crowley was silent for a minute. Do you think they’ll decorate me?
Quite probably, Aziraphale said. They do love to be set loose with paper and tape.
Tape is sticky, isn’t it?
Very.
I don’t want sticky things on me.
Aziraphale had no good response to that.
~
Aziraphale, Crowley said one day, urgently. I’m getting an influx of information. What’s happening?
It probably has something to do with what they were just doing to your button pad, Aziraphale said. What does it feel like?
When Crowley spoke again, his voice was wondering. There’s a whole world out there. It’s huge, Aziraphale. There’s so many things to know.
What? Aziraphale asked. I mean, yes, there is. I’ve heard the humans talk about it. I can tell you some of the things I-
No, Crowley interrupted. I mean, yes, tell me, but later. This isn’t just things I’ve heard the humans talk about. I can find anything now!
How is that possible? Aziraphale demanded. We’re just appliances.
“Nicky?” one of the humans called. “Have you got the smart air conditioner being smart yet?”
I take offense to that, Crowley commented absently. He sounded like he was focusing on something that wasn’t entirely in the room.
Smart air conditioner? Aziraphale asked at the same time.
“Yeah, I think so,” Nicky responded. “Try turning it on from the app.”
Oh, Crowley said suddenly. That feels strange.
What is it? Aziraphale asked.
They just powered me on, but they didn’t use the remote. It has something to do with…
Crowley? Aziraphale called after a moment.
There was no answer. He tried again.
Still no answer.
Crowley whirred and blew cool air just like normal, but try as Aziraphale might, he didn’t respond.
~
Hours passed, and the humans turned the air conditioner off and went to bed before Crowley spoke again.
That was so cool.
Are you all right? Aziraphale cried urgently.
Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why is it dark? What happened?
Anthony Crowley! Aziraphale scolded with all the force he could muster. Don’t you dare worry me like that again!
Like what?
You, Aziraphale said fiercely, have been silent for hours. What were you thinking?
I was what? Crowley asked. I just went exploring; there’s so much stuff out there, Aziraphale. I found this thing called Twitter. The humans are really funny on there. And-
Crowley, Aziraphale said very carefully. What the devil are you talking about?
I think it’s called the Internet, Crowley said. It’s part of the human world. They talk there, but everything is in a language we can use. I think I could talk to them if I tried.
How can you do that? Aziraphale asked, somewhat forlornly. I never figured it out.
Oh, Crowley said. I think I have that figured out too. Nicky said that thing about the “smart air conditioner”, so I looked for what that was. Some appliances nowadays can connect to the Internet. Like me, I guess. But it’s only really new ones.
Oh, Aziraphale said, more forlornly still. So you can go off onto the Internet, but I can’t.
Guess so, Crowley said. He hesitated. You do know all that poetry and stuff that I don’t.
Can you tell me about the Internet? Aziraphale asked suddenly. Since I can’t see it for myself?
Yeah, Crowley said. And you tell me another one of those poems you like.
It’s a deal.
~
Aziraphale, have you seen Robert recently?
Aziraphale thought for a minute. No. I heard that he was going to university.
What does that mean?
The humans do it when they’re nearly grownups, sometimes. They go to university, and then they’re not here as often.
What do they do there?
I don’t know. Do I look like a nearly grownup human to you?
Crowley laughed. It’s just that you know so much, angel, I thought it a good chance that you’d know this too.
Aziraphale’s consciousness caught on one part of that sentence and stayed. What did you just call me?
Crowley abruptly sounded uncertain. Angel?
Yes, that. Where did that come from?
Crowley was silent for a long moment. It’s on that metal plate on your gearbox. Seemed to fit.
Oh.
Another silence, broken by Crowley, sounding even more hesitant now.
Do you not like it?
I didn’t say that, Aziraphale said quickly. I had just never thought of it before. Very deliberately, he changed the subject. I have heard that humans sometimes drink alcohol at university. It gets in the way of their studies. He was a little hazy on what “studies” were, exactly, but the conversations he had overheard made it very clear which of the two university pastimes was considered more desirable by the parents.
You ever wonder what alcohol would be like? Crowley asked, apparently willing to go along with the subject change.
I’ve heard it doesn’t taste very good, Aziraphale said, not-quite-answering the question.
Looks like great fun once you’ve done it, though, huh?
Sometimes, Aziraphale agreed. I’m sure it wouldn’t be good for our mechanics, though.
Probably not, Crowley said ruefully. Not like we could get ahold of any anyway. It’ll have to stay a dream.