Chapter Text
Christmas Eve 2019
The small grey bag had been sitting there for hours.
Actually, Aziraphale reasoned, it may have been closer to a handful of minutes, but time seemed to have slowed down to a sluggish pace inside the airport. No matter how many people passed him by in a hurry — dragging a train of suitcases or groups of crying children along — or how loudly the upbeat Christmas music blared from the speakers, he felt like he’d just fallen into a bubble of still time. Forever sat on the uncomfortable plastic seat at gate A-21. Forever waiting for the blue screen at the gate front desk to change from Expected Departure Time to Boarding Now. Forever staring at the carry-on bag sitting without an owner a few seats away from him, looking strangely similar to his own luggage.
After all, what else was there to do inside London Heathrow Airport at five p.m. on a rather dull Christmas Eve?
Aziraphale threw yet another glance at the solitary bag. The sticky name tag slapped onto its front stared back at him.
It seemed to have bent in the middle at some point, with the two ends of it sticking together to form the unfortunate name of Antley. Aziraphale couldn’t help the small smile curving his lips, immediately followed by the resignation that that would likely be the biggest source of amusement for the remainder of the day. He slumped back in his seat, the hard plastic edge digging into the fabric of his trousers. How had his family convinced him to waste his Christmas Eve like this?
He was dozing off before he could even realise it, his eyes fluttering closed as he crossed his arms on his chest and let his head fall backwards. Wham! was still singing about giving their heart to someone special at full volume, but he could feel sleep trickling in all the same. He tilted his head to the side to let it rest in a more comfortable position, and the music began dying away. Thank someone, was his last coherent thought.
Until the unmistakable noise of a suitcase being wheeled away erupted from the side and startled him back to full consciousness.
His eyes flew open of their own accord as Aziraphale struggled for a few seconds to get his bearings again. That must have been the owner of the abandoned bag finally coming back for it, certainly. Good for them that they had someplace to be other than what obviously was the most tedious location in all of London, he reflected with a splinter of envy.
Except that when he looked to the side, the small grey bag was still sitting in its original position, its wheels perfectly unmoving. Aziraphale frowned. Then, what…?
His eyes fell to the other side, where his own bag should have also been sitting perfectly unmoving. His bag was no longer sitting perfectly unmoving.
A quick look around was enough to determine that, instead, the bag was currently being wheeled down the long stretch of gates by a tall stranger, a shot of bright red hair the only marker preventing him from fully blending into the crowd of travellers.
“Hey!” Aziraphale shot to his feet, a hand already waving in the air. “Excuse me!”
The stranger didn’t turn around.
Aziraphale huffed as he hurried to gather his coat and travel documents in his arms. “Oh, for someone’s sake.”
He mumbled half-hearted apologies as he dove into the stream of rushing people and pushed his way forward, moving towards the red-haired stranger who was still serenely stealing his bag away. One last push forward — which earned him a dirty look from more than one person — and the bag thief was finally in front of him. Without thinking, he closed his hand on the upper handle of the bag, locking it in place.
The redhead was forced to halt mid-step and stumbled backward for a moment before turning around with an irritated expression.
“Do you mind?” he asked Aziraphale with a raised eyebrow.
Aziraphale felt his grip tighten on the bag. Oh, he had some nerve.
“I do mind a little, yes,” he replied gelidly. “Seeing as this is my bag.”
The stranger’s eyebrow shot higher in disbelief. He gave the suitcase a tug, but Aziraphale kept his grip on it.
His eyes flickered from Aziraphale’s face to his hand closed tightly over the bag handle. “Listen, mate, I don’t have time for this. Go for someone else’s bag, yeah?”
Aziraphale couldn’t help the indignant sound that came out of him. “Pardon? I am not the one trying to steal someone else’s luggage, you are.”
The redhead leaned a little closer, trying to free the suitcase from Aziraphale’s grasp again to no avail. “No, I am airport staff. And very close to reporting you if you don’t let go now.”
Aziraphale didn’t let go. Instead, he pointed with his other hand to the plastic name tag dangling from the side handle of the bag.
“That,” he replied slowly, holding the other’s gaze. “Says ‘Aziraphale Fell’ on it. Last I checked, that was still me.”
“What?”
The stranger’s face scrunched up in confusion. Was it weird that Aziraphale thought it looked endearing on him? Maybe a little.
The other bent down to take the name tag in one long-fingered hand and read the words spelled out on it in small, neat handwriting. Aziraphale thought he saw his cheeks flush a little.
“Oh,” he said simply.
“Exactly.” Aziraphale tried to keep his triumphant tone at bay, although he really didn’t give it his best effort. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking this with me.”
The redhead’s hold loosened on the suitcase, allowing him to pull it closer to his side. He stuck his chin up, waiting for the apology he knew was coming. Except that the other didn’t look apologetic at all. Instead, he was staring straight at Aziraphale, his head cocked slightly to the side.
“Aziraphale Fell.” He rolled the name on his tongue as though he were tasting it. “Do I know you?”
“I don’t know. Do you have experience stealing bags outside of airports as well?”
He began to turn away but the stranger was quick to sidle up to him, the hint of a grin stretching his mouth. “Ha-ha, hilarious. ‘Right, sorry about that, I thought it was my bag.”
Aziraphale’s mind flew to the lonely bag still sitting where he’d left it. “I believe yours is still at that gate over there.” Then, after a moment, he sent the other a sideways glance. “I thought airport staff would be smarter than to leave their belongings unattended for that long.”
Rather than looking offended, the redhead’s grin flashed with amusement. “If you must know, I got called in after my shift ended. I never stop working until I’m out of this blasted place.”
Gate A-21 came back in sight as Aziraphale pulled away from the stream of moving travellers and the other followed suit.
“But hey.” He looked to the side when the redhead’s voice rose again. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it for me.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes as he watched the airport officer crouch down to inspect his suitcase, although his mouth quivered with the beginning of a smile. “I wasn’t exactly keeping an eye on it. I was more curious to see when its forgetful owner would make an appearance.”
The other raised a hand to point at himself. “In the flesh.”
He dropped onto one of the seats and pulled the bag on his lap, checking on a tiny lock attached to the zipper that Aziraphale hadn’t noticed before. He supposed the stranger wasn’t as careless as he looked, after all. Then, his fingers moved to smoothen out the sticky name tag, displaying the actual name written on it. Which was definitely not Antley.
“Anthony Crowley?” Aziraphale choked out, eyes going wide.
The redhead looked up. “Yes?”
“That’s your name?”
He smirked. “Last I checked.”
Aziraphale rolled his eyes again at his own words repeated back to him. He took a moment to study the other’s features. Now that he had a name to connect them to, flashes of memories began to slide across his mind.
“I do know you!” He felt his face brighten up. “Mr. Just-Crowley. Second year of uni. You were Anathema’s friend.”
Just-Crowley leaned back to stare up at him, an arm draped over the edge. “Anathema Device? Still am.”
“Strange,” Aziraphale noted with an innocent smile. He sat down next to Crowley. “She doesn’t mention you at all.”
“Ouch!” Crowley’s face scrunched up again, this time in amusement. Aziraphale liked the way it pulled on his smile and made it wider. “Guess I don’t talk to her as much as I used to. But I do remember you, thought you looked familiar. You were, what? Two years behind me?”
Aziraphale nodded. “I seem to recall you were on your way out when I met you, your last year or so.”
“Yeah, I really was in a big hurry to leave, uh?” Crowley looked pensive for a moment, just one moment. Then, a lopsided smile was back on his face. “Had some fun times that year, though. And I liked getting to know you before I ran off.”
Aziraphale stifled a laugh. “I hardly think you got to know me all that well. We didn’t exactly spend a lot of time together.”
He spotted Crowley’s eyes narrowing behind a pair of sunglasses that was very much not season appropriate. “I disagree! I remember I saw quite a lot of you after Ana introduced you the first time.”
“We barely spoke to each other,” Aziraphale chuckled out, leaning back on his seat. “And I suppose it was better that way.”
“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” He glanced to his side to see Crowley staring intently at him, an intrigued curve to his mouth.
Aziraphale opened his mouth and quickly closed it. The answer was on the tip of his tongue. He just had to find his voice and say that it had been easier for him in the end not to get his hopes up. That there may have been a short time when he’d agreed to attend social events for the sole reason that Crowley would have been there too, and Anathema had likely dragged him to said social events for the same reason. That seeing Crowley so enthusiastic about completing his studies and running off somewhere else had quickly stifled any further hope he may have had, and wasn’t that better for the both of them, anyway?
Instead, he said, “Well, you’re not really my, uhm, type of person.” He smiled apologetically. “It wouldn’t have worked out.”
He silently thanked whatever entity took pity on him that Crowley didn’t ask about the exact meaning of it. He simply sank a little further in the plastic seat in a boneless sort of way that Aziraphale remembered all too well.
He rested his head on the back of the seat but his eyes remained fixed on Aziraphale. “You should be careful, Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale shot him a curious smile. “Careful about what?”
The corner of Crowley’s mouth climbed higher. “If this were a movie, you would’ve just sealed your fate with those words.”
Aziraphale suddenly got the impression that his face may have burst into flames. He tried to remedy it with a light chuckle that came out a lot shakier than he would have wished. And the triumphant expression stamped on Crowley’s face certainly didn’t help. What did he even have to feel triumphant about?
Finally, he managed to get out, “Good thing we aren’t in a movie, then.”
Crowley’s smile dimmed a little and he shrugged, as though he disagreed with the statement. Aziraphale watched as he stretched out his legs, trying and failing to find a comfortable position on a seat that was obviously not designed for comfort. The more he looked at Crowley, the stronger were the memories coming back to him. Now he could nearly juxtapose his memory of Crowley to the one in front of him, despite the shorter haircut and the sharply cut dark blue suit paired with a red tie, a clear reminder that their time as students was far behind them. But his mannerism remained the same — suave and casual-looking, like he owned the room without meaning to — and the curve of his smile hadn’t changed, still a promise of excitement.
Aziraphale didn’t let himself admit that he had missed all of it.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “So, airport staff, uh?”
Crowley raised both of his arms in a here-I-am gesture. “Yeah, and that explains why I’m here of all places on Christmas Eve.” His gaze was once again locked on Aziraphale. “Why are you?”
Aziraphale stopped himself from grimacing. “Family visit. They talked me into getting on a last-minute flight to spend Christmas back in my family’s house.”
“Oh.” Crowley seemed deep in thought for a moment until he snapped his fingers. “Wales, right?”
“Y-yes,” Aziraphale blurted out. He hadn’t expected Crowley to get it right. “You remember?”
The redhead slapped a hand to his chest in a fake offended gesture. “Of course I remember! I’ll have you know I have a very solid memory.”
Aziraphale’s mouth twisted into an amused smile. “Well, I do seem to recall several class quizzes you accidentally missed because, and I quote.” He raised his hands to draw invisible air quotes. “They weren’t properly advertised.”
“Oi!” Crowley leaned over the gap between their seats to stick a pointed finger in the middle of Aziraphale’s chest. “If they’d wanted me to show up for’em, they should’ve put more effort in letting me know about them.”
Aziraphale’s eyes flickered down to Crowley’s hand and back up to his face, stretched into a sly grin. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of how close Crowley’s face was to his, closer than he remembered ever seeing it. His heart chose that exact moment to launch into a proper race inside his chest, the quick heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Still, he managed to put on a nonchalant smile. “That is what class calendars are for, Crowley.”
Crowley pulled his hand back, moving to stand up. “That’s it, I’m leaving.”
“No, please!” Aziraphale let out a delighted laugh as he reached over to grab his arm. “I’m so dreadfully bored here, you have to save me.”
Crowley froze in place for a split second as soon as Aziraphale’s hand closed over the fabric of his jacket. It was a barely visible reaction before he relaxed again, but Aziraphale caught it all the same. He drew his hand back.
“That is, if you don’t have someplace else to be, of course,” he hurried to add.
“Nah.” Crowley made a show of sitting back down, which pulled a large smile out of Aziraphale. “My flight isn’t leaving for another three hours. And there’s no other place I’d rather be.”
Aziraphale tried his best not to think too much of that last sentence, instead asking, “You’re getting on a flight, too?”
The redhead’s shoulders visibly sagged, as if a couple of bones had just dematerialised from his spine. “I am. You’re not the only one who got talked into a family visit.”
“Oh.” Aziraphale couldn’t help the surprised look taking over his face, while memories of Crowley making a point of not leaving the school campus during the holidays flashed past him. “Are things… better with your family?”
Crowley stared right ahead as he replied, “Not exactly.”
Silence stretched between them for a handful of seconds, although it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was just that. Silence. Aziraphale found he quite liked it.
“Well.” He eventually broke it, shifting ever so slightly closer to Crowley. “It looks like we will both have very questionable Christmas Days, then.”
Crowley glanced at him with a frown. “Are you not happy to see your family?”
“Not exactly,” he repeated.
There was a moment of hesitation before the other smiled softly at him, his elbow propped on the back of the plastic seat so he could rest his face on the palm of his hand.
Aziraphale let out an unsure laugh. “What are you smiling about?”
“Just thinking,” Crowley drawled out. “It’d be funny if we both ditched our flights, eh? If we did something completely different for Christmas.”
Aziraphale stared at him incredulously. He could read it in his eyes that Crowley was picturing exactly what that would be like. Abandoning all plans and following their instincts. An unpredictable Christmas.
“Yes.” He smiled back at him. “Yes, it would.”
And as he said it, he let himself picture it too, for a brief moment. Not that he could ever do anything like that, anyway. He didn’t really have anybody else to spend his Christmas with.
Or maybe, just maybe…
“We will now be starting the boarding process for flight AC-666. If you belong to boarding group one, please form an orderly line by the main desk.”
The loud voice from the speakers overhead startled both of them, making Aziraphale jump in place. He twisted around in his seat to glance over at the gate main desk. Sure enough, the blue screen now spelled out in large white letters Boarding Now.
He tried to fight the disappointment that was rising quickly inside his chest. He had been waiting to finally board his flight this entire time. This was good. Right?
Crowley’s smile had dropped when he turned back to look at him. “That you?”
“Yes,” he admitted, rummaging in the pockets of his coat for the crumpled boarding pass that he knew he’d stuck in there. “But I’m in the last boarding group, I believe.”
“Want me to stick around while you wait to board?”
Aziraphale stopped searching and looked up at Crowley with a small smile. “You don’t have to do that.”
Crowley smiled back, although not as brightly as before. “I don’t mind.”
Something twisted right behind Aziraphale’s rib cage, hard and painful.
As he stood up with the boarding pass finally in his hand and the rest of his belongings stuck haphazardly into the small carry-on bag, Crowley stood up with him. They waited patiently a few metres away from the desk until Aziraphale’s boarding group number was called, in a loud and rather bored voice. A short line of people began to form in front of the desk as anyone still waiting at the gate hurried to drag their bags and other belongings over with them. Neither he nor Crowley proposed it, but both of them hung back while everybody else got in line, taking the very last spot at the end of the line.
Just as they were doing so, a flight attendant stopped by them on her way to the main desk. She sent Crowley an inquiring look before her gaze moved over to Aziraphale. “Everything alright?”
“Oh yeah.” Crowley grinned back at her as his hand ghosted over the back of Aziraphale’s arm. “Just catching up with an old friend. M’off-work.”
She nodded and walked away as quickly as she’d come.
Aziraphale sent him a small smirk. “Old friend, uh? So you’re not going to report me?”
A corner of Crowley’s mouth shot up. “Still might. Watch your conduct, Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale laughed wholeheartedly, swinging slightly towards Crowley until their shoulders bumped. He straightened back up in a flash just as the person in front of him stepped up to the desk to show their boarding pass. It was almost his turn.
He turned to the side to face Crowley. “Thank you for the company, Crowley. Really saved my Christmas Eve.”
Crowley’s mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Don’t mention it. And hey, maybe I’ll see you next Christmas.”
“Yes, maybe.” He smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Crowley.”
“Merry Christmas, Aziraphale.”
He turned around before his mouth could open again and spit out something he would certainly regret. He showed his boarding pass to the officer behind the desk and hurried to step over to the exit. But before walking around the corner, he dared to glance over his shoulder.
Crowley had moved a few steps away but he was still there. He caught Aziraphale’s gaze and waved. Aziraphale waved back.
Then, he turned back around one more time and walked around the corner, knowing fully well that he wouldn’t see Crowley again next Christmas.
Nobody got that lucky twice.