Work Text:
"Aziraphale?"
"Hm?" Aziraphale hummed without looking up from the book he was studying on his desk.
"May I ask you a question?"
Muriel had approached the angel's desk, fidgeting, and Aziraphale turned to them.
He replied gently, "I'm listening, go ahead."
A little hesitantly they said, "There, I'm getting the hang of this new concept of trust. I... I mean, up there I was always told to trust God, that whatever was planned was part of the ineffable plan. But now that I'm kind of starting to open my eyes, I realize that this blind trust has its limits, and I'm wondering about it."
Aziraphale interrupted with a gentle chuckle, "You beat me to it. But forgive me for interrupting, go on."
Muriel continued, "Well, I trust you and Crowley, as well as Maggie and Nina, and it didn't take me long to see how absolute the trust you and Crowley have in each other is. And I was wondering, since when and... how did you know?"
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and asked, "Know what?"
"That you could trust Crowley and when did you know for sure."
"Ah..." Aziraphale nodded knowingly.
Then he stood up and said, "We're going to need a cup of tea for this, because this is going to take a while."
He went to prepare two cups, put a spoonful of honey in one of them, because he'd noticed that Muriel particularly liked it, and then returned to the other angel.
He handed them their cup and motioned for them to sit on the sofa while he sat in his armchair across from them.
He smiled with amusement as he saw the attentive look on Muriel's face and began to tell his story, "It all began when I appeared on earth to stop that terrible demon who was going to kill Job's goats. No one had prepared me for the upheaval my life would undergo that day. God and Satan had this bet regarding Job."
"And it so happened that Crowley, then called Crawley, was given permission to destroy everything that belonged to Job, including his goats. I saw him kill the goats to show me that he had God's permission. Or so I thought."
"So when I learned that Job's children would be killed and replaced by seven new ones if he remained faithful to God, I decided to return to earth to stop Crawley from doing it. And even though I had seen him kill the goats, I couldn't believe he was capable of it. I wanted him to tell me to my face."
"Then... Then tell me you want to do this. You look me in the eye and tell me."
The demon slowly took off his glasses, brought his face close to the angel's, and said, "I do. I long to destroy the blameless children of blameless Job, just as I destroyed his blameless goats."
Aziraphale swallowed and remained silent for a few moments before replying, dejected "Then God forgive you."
He began to walk away from the demon when he suddenly heard a bleating sound. He looked around and saw only crows. Another bleating sound came from the crows. And gradually all the birds began to bleat.
Aziraphale waved his hand, and suddenly all the birds turned into goats, and the angel was absolutely delighted to have been right and to have kept his faith to the end.
"He didn't kill them! I knew it, Crowley is kind. I've known it all along. Even when he tried to be grumpy with me. Nobody ever realized how lonely I was up there before him."
Aziraphale was amused at the passion with which Muriel spoke of Crowley, and also a little moved because he saw so much of himself in them.
He nodded and said softly, "He has this talent for finding lonely, strange angels and helping them see what they really want."
Muriel took a sip of tea and asked eagerly, "So that's when you knew? That you could trust him?"
Azirphale replied, "Well, let's just say that was the foundation stone. Then there was Job's house burning down."
"Oh!" exclaimed Muriel, "Tell me about that!"
Aziraphale took another sip of tea in preparation for the story to come.
"Ready?"
The demon swung his arms and everything around them began to burn.
Aziraphale exclaimed, "But... you said you wouldn't."
Swinging his arms the other way, Crawley retorted", "I'm a demon. I lied. Ah!"
One of the children asked, "Can't you save us?"
Aziraphale replied, "I'm afraid not. He has a permit, you see."
Then, realizing something, he said, "But... be not afraid." Then, looking at the demon, he continued, "You're perfectly safe. "
The demon swung his hands back and asked, "Are you sure, Angel?"
This time it was the angel who brought his face close to the demon's as he replied in a firm voice, "Yes. Quite sure."
"Oh, so that's how you knew? You knew deep down that nothing was going to happen to you, didn't you?"
Muriel had this little way of summing up the situation, and Aziraphale could only nod.
The angel continued, "And in all this time, you never doubted?"
Aziraphale answered immediately, "Not once."
"Really? Not once? Not even after the way we parted in 1865?"
Aziraphale turned his head sharply to see Crowley coming toward him, a slight smile on his lips.
"Have you...have you been listening long?" the angel asked him.
Crowley replied, sitting on the arm of Aziraphale's armchair, "Since... I killed the goats I didn't kill," he winked at Muriel, who hid their laughter behind their cup.
Then, resting his arm nonchalantly on the back of the armchair, he continued, "So you didn't answer my question, angel."
Aziraphale leaned against him and replied, "Even after that, I hadn't lost faith in you, but 1941 sealed it forever, my dear."
Crowley chuckled softly, "Aahh...1941...magic, zombies..."
Muriel interrupted, asking again eagerly, "What happened?"
Aziraphale smiled mischievously and replied, "I'll let the demon tell you the beginning of that story."
Crowley, still sitting on the armrest, leaned forward and in a mysterious voice began to recount the events, "That night the bombs were raining down on London and this angel next to me had found nothing better than to meet Nazis in a church to get them books for the Fuhrer. Of course, he wanted to be a hero and had planned to trap them, but it backfired. Until his savior, me, came along."
Aziraphale scoffed, but Crowley was unfazed and continued his story, “To make a long story short, I had anticipated this. A shell redirected itself at the church, and thanks to a small miracle, and thanks to me, there was nothing left but a pile of rubble and a few Nazis underneath.”
"Look, you two, house burned down, church blown up... I don't know if I'm doing the right thing staying with you," Muriel interrupted.
Crowley nudged the angel's shoulder and said in an amused tone, "Told you they were getting cheeky, that little bee. Anyway, after that..."
Aziraphale stopped him and said, "I think it's best if I tell the rest. Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll be giving yourself the good part all along."
Crowley protested, "Because I've had the good part all along."
"Idiot."
"Next, please."
They couldn't help laughing at Muriel's serious yet eager expression, then Aziraphale continued the story of that evening.
Aziraphale stood up in the midst of the rubble of the blasted church and removed his hat, which he held to his chest as Crowley cleaned his glasses.
Aziraphale was more shocked that Crowley had come to save his neck than that the church had exploded.
He said quietly, "That was very kind of you."
Of course, Crowley immediately replied, "Shut up."
But Aziraphale used a different way of thanking him: "Well... It was. No paperwork for us."
Just talking about paperwork made him think of his books, so he exclaimed, "Oh, the books. Oh..."
He looked around and saw nothing but rubble and Nazi bodies under the gravel.
He continued in dismay, "I forgot all the books. Oh, they'll all be blown to..."
He didn't notice Crowley bending down to pick something up as the demon suddenly handed him his book bag, saying softly, "Little demonic miracle of mine."
Then he began to walk away, completely oblivious to the angel's state of mind as he added, "Lift home?"
Aziraphale was still frozen in the rubble. So many thoughts raced through his mind.
Crowley had come to his rescue.
Crowley had saved him.
Crowley had even saved his books.
But the information he found hardest to analyze clearly was the emotion he felt about all of it.
"Oh, really, Angel? Just for a few books salvaged from the rubble?"
Aziraphale tapped him on the knee and retorted, "If you're here to make fun, there's no point in staying!"
Crowley pressed a quick kiss to his hair and replied softly, "No, I'm not making fun, I just didn't realize, that's all."
Aziraphale replied, "Oh, I noticed, the way you sent me packing in the car."
They had been driving in silence through the blazing streets for a few moments when Aziraphale, book bag on his lap, gave him a sidelong glance before tentatively saying, "You know...that was a very nice thing you did for me."
Crowley, of course, immediately replied by turning his head and telling him to shut up.
But Aziraphale wasn't in the mood to let go tonight, so he gently insisted as he looked at Crowley, "There must be something I can do for you in return."
The demon's eyes never left the road as he replied, "Forget it, will you?"
But Aziraphale would not and could not forget.
The demon's actions had ignited something in him that he didn't know how to extinguish.
Did he even want to?
"Wow, so grumpy!"
Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh at Muriel's spontaneous reaction, while Crowley protested, "Hey, you're getting too cheeky!"
"Well, my dear, it reminds me of someone just as cheeky..."
Crowley grumbled, "I see you're ganging up on me. Let's get on with the story. For you see, Muriel, Aziraphale has finally returned the favor. Unexpectedly, in a funny, slightly frightening way, but..."
"Hey!" Aziraphale protested, "I was the one at gunpoint, and you were the one holding the rifle!"
Muriel coughed, reminding them that they were here.
They turned to face them and Crowley continued, "So, after I made a mistake in the delivery, Aziraphale offered to help me compensate my... customer."
The owner of the West End Theater was furious and showed it, "And to top it all off, tonight's magician has just been arrested as a deserter. I'm f..."
"Erm, I wonder if I might be able to help you out on behalf of my...erm,"
Crowley turned in surprise to Aziraphale, who had just intervened. He raised an eyebrow and waited for the angel to finish his sentence.
Aziraphale gave him a strange, furtive look before continuing, "Good friend here," and followed directly with the next part, "I am no stranger to the art of prestidigitation."
As he said this, he waved a handkerchief from his pocket.
To say that Crowley was surprised would have been an understatement. The angel who had spoken of fraternization the last time they'd met was now calling him his friend. That was far more shocking than the fact that he was offering to help him.
"Did you find that shocking?" Aziraphale interrupted, "But Crowley, you had just saved my life, saved my books. I was proceeding with all that myself, but what was certain was that I could no longer settle for fraternization. At the time it seemed the most appropriate word. Even if I was surprised myself. Like in the bookshop a little later".
As for Muriel, they watched in fascination as the angel and the demon took turns telling their shared history.
"Cheers for getting me off the hook."
Crowley leaned against one of the bookshop columns as Aziraphale replied animatedly, "Oh, no need to thank me, that's what..."
He stopped in mid-sentence, realizing what he was about to say. Crowley and he exchanged a strange look, then the angel continued in a more timid voice, "Friends are for..."
It was the second time tonight he'd used that term in reference to Crowley, and Aziraphale wasn't sure what to make of his feelings as he said it. He had a deep sense that something was shifting in their relationship, but he didn't know what. Maybe he wasn't even sure he wanted to know.
But for now, he had to prepare his trick for the theater.
"And what a trick!" Crowley leaned toward Muriel and continued, "My little bee, if this troublemaker ever offers you a chance to participate in a magic act, say no. Don't even think about it. Just say no."
"Crowley!" Aziraphale protested, "I remind you that it was you who pushed me to think bigger!"
Crowley chuckled softly, "Ah, well, to see bigger, you saw bigger!"
Aziraphale smiled as he recalled the events and said, "You see, Muriel, we went to the store now run by Mutt to find the trick that would wow the audience at the West End Theater. And I found it."
Despite Crowley's sneer, Aziraphale looked serious as he continued the story for Muriel, looking at the demon: "Muriel, you will now learn the core of my trust in Crowley. I had my sights set on a rifle trick. Someone would shoot at me and I would catch the bullet in my teeth. The perfect magic trick for the theater. But Will Goldstone, the owner, wasn't too keen and tried to stop me from doing the trick.
"You don't understand, look." The seller pulled out a box from under his counter and rummaged through it for a few seconds, "Where are we?"
He pulled out a small booklet describing the trick and showed it to Aziraphale, " Here you need nerves of steel. And a hand as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar."
Aziraphale, bolstered by his newfound confidence, replied, "Well, I have those."
The seller waved away a slightly pushy customer before continuing, "You're going to need a hundred percent reliable marksman. Someone you can really trust. Otherwise, it's lethal."
It took Aziraphale less than a second to answer because he didn't have to think. The one person he'd trusted absolutely since the beginning of time was standing right next to him.
Looking up at Crowley, he replied, "Oh, I have the perfect man for the job."
Seeing that the demon had no idea he was talking about him, Aziraphale added, "At least I think I have..."
Crowley, finally catching on, looked at him in complete surprise. But Aziraphale was completely sure of himself.
He knew he could put his life in the demon's hands without fear. Ever since the day they had been surrounded by flames in Job's house.
"Oh wow," Muriel murmured. "Is that what this is? This conviction."
"I didn't have that conviction," the demon muttered. "Certainly not when our magic wasn't working and I had to point the gun at you when I'd never used one in my life."
"How did you do it?" asked Muriel, their eyes shining.
Crowley looked at Aziraphale and said very softly, "He told me to trust him."
Aziraphale replied, "And you did."
"Even though I was scared to death," the demon retorted.
"Are you ready, sir?"
Aziraphale was face to face with Crowley, and they were only a few feet apart, so he continued, "When you hear my signal, sir, shoot."
There was a drum roll, and as Aziraphale took off his hat, Crowley shook his head and grimaced. He didn't feel it at all.
But Aziraphale mouthed to him, "Trust me.
Then he said aloud to the audience, "Ready?"
Crowley wasn't ready. Not ready at all to have the Angel in his line of fire.
Aziraphale continued this madness and yelled, "Aim."
Crowley raised his rifle and saw it, in the sights.
The Angel's face. So trusting.
His finger trembled on the trigger as his head echoed, "Trust me, trust me, trust me."
Aziraphale shouted, "Fire!"
Crowley shot through clenched teeth, fear in his heart.
"The bullet hit the backstage wall and..."
Aziraphale interrupted Crowley and continued, "After that, all I had to do was show the bullet I had in my teeth. People didn't bat an eye, and after a little run-in with the zombies and a vengeful demon, we ended the evening here having a drink. All's well that ends well."
"Well, it could have ended better," the demon muttered.
Aziraphale looked at him quizzically, "What do you mean?"
"I wish I had stayed longer that night."
The angel replied, "Are you kidding me? I'm the one who wanted you to stay."
"Why didn't you ask?"
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I had just found out what you meant to me, how could I..."
"And I had just found out how much you trusted me!"
Aziraphal asked, "Are we arguing about something from the past that we can't change?"
Crowley, still sitting on the arm of the angel's armchair, chuckled slightly, "I think so."
They both laughed lightly, then the demon added, "Tell me, if I had stayed that night, what would you have done?"
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hand and intertwined their fingers before replying, "I'd like to tell you I would have done something like that, but I know I never would have had the guts, or probably even the idea. But what about you? If you had stayed, what would you have done?"
Crowley turned a little more toward the angel, then raised his hand, brushing the angel's hair back, letting his hand linger on the nape of his neck, and said softly, "I wish I could tell you I would have done something like that..."
He leaned toward the angel's face and, closing the distance between them, pressed his lips to his in a soft kiss before pulling away slightly and continuing, "or something like that, but I don't know if I would have had the courage."
He turned all the way to face the angel before sliding off the armrest to sit on Aziraphale's lap. The angel laughed slightly as he wrapped his arms around the demon's waist before saying, "At least now we can do this."
Crowley, meanwhile, wound his arms around the angel's neck and replied, "Because now we know."
Aziraphale asked softly, "We know what?"
Crowley smiled before answering, "We know what we are to each other, so I know I can do this."
He snuggled a little closer to the angel before continuing, "Without fear of not being welcome."
"Always," Aziraphale replied softly before wrapping his arms around him and pressing a tender kiss to the demon's forehead.
Both in their own world, they hadn't noticed that Muriel was long gone.
When they'd started arguing, the little bee had known it was time for them to go.
But they were content, for they had understood perfectly the nature of the absolute trust between Aziraphale and Crowley.
It was love.
A trust founded on love.
Unwavering.
Happy with their new discovery and the fact that they'd witnessed it, Muriel thought it deserved a reward.
So they hopped over to Nina's coffee shop, where they were sure she'd make them the best hot chocolate.
A hot chocolate as sweet as a certain angel and a certain demon, among whom life was decidedly good.