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“Stop the lift,” Aziraphale commanded.
“What?” The Metatron looked over at Aziraphale like he was crazy.
Maybe I am crazy, he thought as he fiddled with his thumbs. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe I had everything I needed with Crowley. Everything I wanted. And I threw it away for… for what? Power?
“I said,” Aziraphale began in an annoyed tone, “Stop. The. Lift.”
“Why?” The Metatron continued looking at Aziraphale. Aziraphale could tell he was getting annoyed.
“I—“ Aziraphale began. “I forgot something! Something very important. It will only take a moment to grab it.” He knew he wouldn’t be coming back. He had to find Crowley, apologize for his naïveté, and then they could live happily ever after together. Crowley had to agree. He was the one that kissed him— why would he say no?
The Metatron considered this for a second, then said, “But you insisted you had everything.”
“It just popped into my mind!” Aziraphale explained, tapping his head in exasperation. “I can’t believe I forgot about it! I’m so very sorry.”
The Metatron pressed a button, and suddenly they were returned to the streets of Soho. Aziraphale hopped out of the lift, turned around, and smiled to the Metatron. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I will be back before you can even say tickety-boo!”
He turned, shuffled across the street to his bookshop, and swung the door open. “Crowley?” he called out. “Crowley, are you here?”
“I’m sorry.” The voice belonged to Muriel, and soon Aziraphale saw them come around a shelf to stand a few feet from him. “Crowley isn’t here! He never was.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, alright, then. Do you—“ Aziraphale cleared his throat— “Do you mind if I use the telephone to make a call?”
Muriel stared at him curiously, and then they gave a slight nod. “Of course! It’s your bookshop as much as it is mine,” they said with a smile.
“Thank you, Muriel. I will only be a moment,” Aziraphale said with a returning smile.
Aziraphale quickly dialed Crowley’s mobile phone number and waited as it rang. Once. Twice. And then he heard a click, and a sound similar to a “Yeah”.
“Crowley, I—“ Aziraphale began.
“Angel,” Crowley muttered, not in the affectionate tone he usually used the nickname with. He sounded annoyed. Upset. Aziraphale could hear the faint sound of Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen playing through the Bentley’s speakers. “You made your choice. Go fix Heaven. Do whatever. I—“ Crowley’s voice cracked. He tried to hide it, but Aziraphale could hear a strained sob. Crowley sighed and began again, “I understand you— you don’t feel the same, Angel, and I won’t force you. Good luck.”
Aziraphale could hear Crowley adjusting to end the call, but he quickly cut in, “Crowley! Crowley, wait.”
Aziraphale heard Crowley sigh again, but he didn’t hang up. He was giving Aziraphale a second chance, and he wouldn’t mess it up this time. If he did, he didn’t know what he’d do with himself.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale began. “I’m sorry for trying to force you to return to Heaven. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for everything, Crowley.” His voice was breaking. “I’m not going to Heaven. I’ve changed my mind. They don’t have the one thing I want— need.”
“And what is that?” Crowley said in his iconic drawl.
“You, Crowley,” Aziraphale said simply. “They don’t have you.”
Aziraphale heard the Bentley’s tires screech through the phone. He heard a suppressed oomf, as which he could only assume was the result of Crowley slamming on the Bentley’s brakes.
He heard Crowley inhale and exhale, slowly. There was silence for what felt like an eternity, until Crowley finally said, “What about your plan to fix everything Up There? Isn’t that important? Isn’t that why you agreed to go?”
“I agreed to go because I thought you would come with me,” Aziraphale said, barely holding himself together.
“You thought I would agree to go to Heaven? Maybe you didn’t know me as well as I thought,” Crowley snarled.
“Crowley— no. I— I worded that wrong. Of course I knew you wouldn’t go to Heaven. That was foolish of me. Which is why I ran away. I’m running away from Heaven!” Aziraphale shouted the last part. He wanted the whole world to know about his decision.
He heard Muriel let out a distressed squeak from a corner of the bookshop. He had forgotten they were there, but he didn’t mind. They deserved to know too.
The phone call was silent again, for a long time. The only reason Aziraphale knew Crowley was still there was because of the soft sigh of his breathing.
“You ran away,” Crowley finally whispered. “You ran away from Heaven.”
“Yes, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly into the telephone speaker, “I ran away from Heaven. For you.”
“For me,” Crowley echoed, so quiet that Aziraphale had to strain his ears to hear.
“I’m at the bookshop,” Aziraphale said. “Come to the bookshop, Crowley. I want to see you.”
“Ngk— yeah, alright,” Crowley grumbled, and Aziraphale could hear a faint chuckle at the end. He heard the Bentley roar to life. “I’m on my way, Angel.” He said the nickname as he usually did, with the most lovingly affectionate tone Aziraphale had ever had the pleasure to hear.
“See you soon,” Aziraphale said into the phone as he set it down. He smiled. A full smile, that reached all the way to his eyes.
“Sir,” Muriel said, emerging from the corner. “Did you say you’re— you’re running away from Heaven?”
Aziraphale looked at them in shock for a moment. He had said that, hadn’t he? “Well, yes. I suppose I did. And I meant it with my entire heart,” he said, a smile returning to his face.
Muriel blinked. “You don’t mind if I stay, do you?” they asked.
“Oh, of course. Feel free.” Aziraphale smiled softly at them as he removed his coat and hung it on the coat rack near his desk.
“Thank you, Mr. Fell,” Muriel said, giving him a shy smile in return.
“Oh, call me Aziraphale. Please.”
Muriel nodded politely and hurried behind a bookshelf. Aziraphale sat down at his desk chair and waited, trying not to think too much about the events of the past and the events to come.
Before long, Aziraphale heard the unmistakable noise of the Bentley’s tires skidding down the street. For the first time in his entire life, he felt what humans had described as butterflies in his stomach. It was an interesting feeling; he felt so nervous and excited that he also felt ill. He’d never felt such a thing before.
He heard the door open, and then abruptly slam shut.
Crowley dinged the bell.
Aziraphale stayed still.
He heard the tap tap tap of Crowley’s shoes approaching behind him.
He felt a hand reach out and touch his shoulder.
He finally turned around and looked at Crowley. He was wearing his sunglasses, but Aziraphale wasn’t surprised.
“Hello,” Aziraphale whispered. He smiled. He reached a hand up to cup Crowley’s face, something he wish he’d done earlier. Before everything went pear-shaped.
He snaked his hand up to the bridge of Crowley’s sunglasses and whispered, “May I take these off?”
Aziraphale watched as Crowley swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and nodded.
Aziraphale gently slid the glasses off of Crowley’s face, folded them up, set them on his desk, and then pulled Crowley into a kiss. A true, soft, loving kiss. Much softer than the one from such a short time ago. This one was already replacing Aziraphale’s memories of the previous one.
He felt Crowley wrap his hands around Aziraphale’s neck, as Aziraphale’s hands hovered on his cheeks.
After a few moments, they pulled apart and just smiled at each other for a while, awestruck.
Aziraphale lowered one of his hands from Crowley’s cheek, but kept the other one there, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the soft skin. He leaned in and planted a kiss on Crowley’s nose, which caused Crowley to let out a groan.
“Angel,” he grumbled, “We’re not going to go all soft now, are we?”
“Why wouldn’t we, dear?” Aziraphale asked, smiling at his devilishly handsome partner.
The nickname clearly caught Crowley by surprise, as he let out a startled “ngk!”, which caused Aziraphale to chuckle.
“Before I lose the nerve,” Aziraphale began, “I just want to say— I love you, Crowley.”
Crowley’s face lit up in a bright, beautiful grin. Aziraphale had never seen him smile so brightly before, and to know that he was the cause warmed his heart. “I love you too, Angel,” he said, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on Aziraphale’s. “I love you too.”