Work Text:
Current theories about what exactly went down at the latest school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream range from a gas explosion, a terrorist attack, a government cover-up, to an electrical fire.
None of these theories are correct.
What really happened that day was only witnessed by a few and none of them seem keen on sharing. There was Aziraphale; he didn’t want to get in trouble with The Office. There was Crowley; he never felt chatty with anyone except Aziraphale. And then there was the Them; none of them were keen to chat with grownups other than Aziraphale, Crowley, Anathema, and Newt. (Aziraphale was quite chuffed that the Them included him on their list.)
The truth went something like this.
--
Aziraphale and Crowley were taking a bit of a vacation from the hustle and bustle of city life. The angel insisted that a change of pace was needed. Crowley didn’t see much point. It’s not like they did much in London. Aziraphale had his bookstore that didn’t actually sell any books. Crowley sulked around the shop and his car, business as usual. They decided to visit their friends in the South Downs. It had been a while since they’d seen Anathema, Newt, and the Them.
Of course, Anathema was delighted to host them. Newt had some doubts as the last time they’d all been together, the world had nearly ended. He begrudgingly agreed after Anathema promised him that there was no longer any danger of the world ending during their lifetime. They welcomed the celestial beings into their home with slightly different levels of enthusiasm.
The cottage was a quaint thing with two bedrooms and one bath. Seeing as the two additional beings did not require something as mundane as human needs, this was not a problem. They brought only the Bently that Crowley insisted on driving and some books Aziraphale insisted on bringing. The white-washed fence and walls were covered in a healthy growth of ivory that somehow didn’t seem to cause any damage. Crowley suspected Adam might have had something to do with that. Small things in the world would still listen to him and if he thought the ideal cottage should have ivy, it did.
Aziraphale was delighted by the whole adventure as he called it. He complimented Anathema on her decoration choices and Newt on his progress in the little workshop out back. Technology still didn’t agree with Newt, but he was making progress on some invention or another. Aziraphale thought it best to just nod and smile as he was shown around. Crowley noted the progress that Anathema’s garden was making. He tried not to scare the plants too badly in deference to her preferred plant parenting style.
They spent a quiet evening catching up. It was mostly idle chit-chat as the most exciting thing that had happened to any of them had been the recent near apocalypse. Anathema caught them up on the happenings of the Them. School had started so she had plenty of stories of afternoons spent helping with homework and supplying the children with lemonade and cookies. (It should be noted here that the parents of the Them never questioned the time the children spent with Anathema and Newt. They believed she was a perfectly respectable individual and had no reason to be suspicious of her. Little did they know. Not that Anathema planned on harming the children in any way, rather, she was quite protective of them.)
The following day was a Monday. (Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale bothered to mark the day they arrived and lucky for them, Anathema wasn’t busy that week.) Crowley spent the day out in the garden in snake form. He might have done that on purpose to scare Newt. He also just wanted to nap in the sun and that was best enjoyed as a reptile. Aziraphale spent the day chatting with Anathema about the newest books she was reading and what she mentioned that he didn’t already have, Aziriphale added to his collection. There was no urgency to anything. After the almost end of the world, nothing seemed terribly urgent.
That was until the Them came storming up the path to the front door of the cottage. One of them nearly stepped on Crowley who shot up ready to hiss menacingly at the interruption until he saw who it was. Crowley was not generally good with children, but he did have a soft spot for the son of Satan and his friends. They were somehow not as annoying as other human offspring were to him. The Them were clamoring on about some school thing or other. He couldn’t be bothered to find out exactly what. Aziraphale was much better at that stuff anyway.
Anathema opened the front door ready to hear the latest woes of the secondary school world. She was used to helping the children with anything from homework to life advice. For someone who spent most of her life obsessing over a nearly 400-year-old book, she was rather well-adjusted. Newt would pop up on occasion if he thought he could really help.
“Calm down and one at a time tell me what’s the matter this time,” she said with a fond expression.
“Shakespeare is pointless, why must we put on a play that’s old,” complained Brian.
“What Brain said, who cares about him anyway?” agreed Pepper.
At this point, Aziraphale piped up. “Now hang on just a moment. Shakespeare was quite the creative lad. Why on Earth are you disparaging his good name?”
“Because he’s boring,” complained Wensleydale.
“Adam?” Anathema asked the former Antichrist.
“I don’t think he’s so bad. These lot are complaining because we have to help with the play this year at school,” he replied.
“Why? When I was in school, helping with the school play wasn’t required,” said Anathema.
“Pepper, would you like to explain to Anathema why we have to help?” Adam asked with a pointed look.
“It wasn’t my fault and you know it!” exclaimed Pepper.
“Alright, what wasn’t Pepper’s fault?” Anathema sighed.
“There was just a misunderstanding. One moment we were playing a game, the next, one of the girls we were playing with was crying for no reason,” said Pepper.
“Because you were mean to her,” Wensleydale piped up. “We all got caught up in the mess so as punishment, the school teacher is making us help with the school play. We are doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream .”
“Oh, what an excellent play!” Aziraphale couldn’t help but chime in. “That was commissioned by a good friend of mine. Well, I say friend. He doesn’t have friends as such. Acquaintance maybe.” He looked thoughtful at that. It was hard to quantify what an anthropomorphic personification of an idea was to an angel who had only met them once or twice at official gatherings. They shared a love of stories at least.
“Oh, bloody Shakespeare? Really?” Crowley had finally decided to join the conversation. “He was no good until we helped him, you know.”
“You met Shakespeare?” asked Anathema. Suddenly, the Them seemed like they might be more interested in who he was.
“We did, it was when he was working on Hamlet, was slated to be a total flop until Angel and I stepped in,” replied Crowley.
“So he wasn’t totally boring, cos you wouldn’t bother with anyone who wasn’t interesting, right?” asked Pepper.
“He was interesting only after we helped him, as I said.”
“Oh don’t be so hard on him, Crowley,” said Aziraphale.
“Angel, you were there with me, you saw how bad it was.”
“Well, some of that might have been the actors he was working with at the time.”
“Some? Actors will only take a script so far. The writing actually has to mean something!”
The Them and Anathema watched the two beings argue like it was the finals at Wimbledon. Anathema was thinking that she wanted to ask what other historical figures the two had met. The Them were thinking that they might ask for help. The Them beat Anathema.
“So since you both seem to be experts, would you help us? Maybe it won’t be so boring with you there,” asked Adam.
“We’d be delighted to!” said Aziraphale excitedly.
“I am not an expert,” said Crowley, crossly.
“So is that a yes?” asked Pepper.
“Well it’s a yes for me,” replied Aziraphale.
“I suppose I should go along and make sure Aziraphale doesn’t accidentally set anything on fire, even if that would make things more fun,” said Crowley with a resigned sigh.
“Well that’s settled then, I suppose this will extend our vacation a bit, my dear,” said Aziraphale.
“Vacation from what exactly? We weren’t doing a lot in London,” huffed Crowley.
“Vacation from the city, we talked about this!”
“Mmm,” was the demon’s reply.
--
The following day saw Crowley and Aziraphale pulled up to the school that the Them attended. Just like everything else in Tadfield, it was a quaint little building. One of the few brick buildings in the town. There was a play area to the side and what appeared to be a large field in the back for football and rugby. They were a little early as Aziraphale had insisted they make a good impression on whatever adult was overseeing the play.
As the final bell rang and children began to stream out of the building, Aziraphale and Crowley got out of the car. Following Adam’s instructions, they made their way to the gymnasium that doubled as a theater. Crowley sniffed. He may not like the Bard much, but the least they could do was put on his works in a proper performance space. No wonder the kids needed help if this was what they were working with.
The Them arrived soon after. Behind them were other children who appeared to be much more enthusiastic about being there. As soon as the Them saw the angel and demon lurking in a corner, (well, Crowley was doing most of the lurking, Aziraphale was really just standing there), they made a beeline toward the pair. As they approached, Aziraphale spotted the only other adult in the room and decided to go and introduce himself. Crowley tried to stop him but wasn’t fast enough. That, and the angel drew attention wherever he went. It was a wonder he didn’t get more bodies discorporated on accident.
“Hello there!” Aziraphale waved. “Are you the person in charge of this production?”
“I-yes, who are you?” replied the person in question. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties with a strong build and kind smile. Aziraphale liked him immediately. Crowley groaned inwardly.
“My name is Aziraphale and this is my friend Crowley. Adam mentioned that you required additional help with the production, and well, I do consider myself a bit of a Shakespeare expert,” said Aziraphale.
“Adam and his friends asked for help? Last I checked, they weren’t even here of their own volition,” the man said.
“Well, they did mention that, yes, but perhaps with us here, they might be more willing? You see, we have a history together and I consider them all friends and I always like to help my friends.”
“And you?” the man directed at Crowley.
“I’m here to make sure Aziraphale doesn’t set anything on fire,” said Crowley flatly.
“I certainly hope nothing catches on fire, we aren’t using any terribly flammable materials,” the man said with a worried look.
“You’d be surprised what catches on fire around him,” smirked Crowley. Aziraphale looked a little hurt at that and Crowley’s smile fell.
“Well, I’d appreciate the help, I’m not terribly fond of Shakespeare myself, but the school insisted. I’d have rather done something by Kit Marlowe or even Oscar Wilde. But where are my manners? I’m Rob, Mr. Golding to the kids.”
“It’s certainly a delight to meet you, Mr. Golding. What is it that you need help with?” asked Aziraphale.
Mr. Golding scratched the back of his neck and looked down shyly. “Well, pretty much everything. The school asked me to do this on a whim. Bit weird, honestly. I’ve got the play cast. We’re just starting rehearsals. I still need to find people to help with the set and all the technical bits.”
“Leave that to us! We’ll get the children to help as well.” Aziraphale was quite excited by the prospect of figuring out what all that meant. Crowley shot Mr. Golding a nervous look. The last time he’d seen that look in Aziraphale’s eye, he’d had to shoot a gun at the angel. Whatever Aziraphale was planning, he’d need the demon’s help to ensure no one else was put in any undue danger.
Aziraphale charged the children with showing them around the space to see what they were working with. Crowley stayed behind to talk actual logistics with Mr. Golding. “So is there a budget? What about a time frame?”
“Ah, not much budget to speak of, I’m afraid, you know how these things go. As for a timeline, the show is due to go up in two months,” answered Mr. Golding.
“Well, don’t worry too much about the budget aspect, I think you’ll find Aziraphale a very generous individual.”
“And you’re not?”
“I wouldn’t call me anything as nice as generous,” hissed Crowley.
“Alright, alright, note taken!” said Mr. Golding defensively.
Crowley decided it was time he caught up with the angel to make sure he didn’t get any bright ideas about what could be feasibly pulled off in two months' time by mortals. The stage was a decent size, but there wasn’t much wing space to speak of, that would make moving large sets harder. There wasn’t much headspace to fly things out either. The lighting system looked in decent shape, even if some of the fixtures were out of date, even by an immortal’s standards. The sound system left something to be desired, but hopefully they wouldn’t need much use of it during the show. The gym wasn’t big and hopefully Mr. Golding taught the children to project.
When Crowley finally caught up with everyone, they were in what could generously be called a scene shop. It looked more like a converted classroom, the door wasn’t even big enough to carry large pieces of anything out toward the stage. The few work tables in the room were covered in paint and glue, as was the floor. The Them were demonstrating to the angel some of the power tools they got a hold of.
“Ah, Crowley! Look at everything we can use to build sets! We’ll have the stage looking like the Fairie Court in no time!”
“Angel, you are aware that it has to appear that humans did the work and with a timeframe of only two months? Really a month and a half to consider design time and whatever time Mr. Golding wants for tech rehearsals,” cautioned Crowley.
“Yes, yes, I am somewhat aware of the human limitations. But that doesn’t mean we can’t help them make it as accurate as possible. You know the original play was for the Fairie queen.”
“Yeah I know, Angel. I heard the rumors.”
“So we must ensure this production does it justice!”
“Whatever you say, Angel.”
--
The following week was spent discussing design ideas with the rest of the production team which really just consisted of Mr. Golding. They talked about where and when they wanted the show to be set, whether it was a more traditional telling of the story and if Greece was the place to set it. Eventually they settled on modern times and a nebulous town somewhere with a mayor instead of royalty. The Fairie court didn’t need to be changed much since it never changed, especially after cutting contact with the mortal plane.
Aziraphale spent a lot of time reading up on how to build sets, work lighting systems, and wrangle the old sound board into some semblance of working. By the end of the week, he thought he had some grasp on how everything would come together. And if Crowley had to perform some minor miracles here and there to help, well, what the angel didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
The following Saturday, Newt and Anathema came in to offer their services. As it turned out, Anathema was a natural at costumes and Newt could paint without anything breaking around him. It was all hands on deck to get things up and running. The Them ran around trying to look busy without doing any actual work. Except Adam. He had taken a real interest in all the technical bits. He and Crowley spent a lot of time in the booth figuring out what the lights should look like. Crowley didn’t even have to use a miracle.
Mr. Golding had no idea where the Them managed to find Aziraphale and Crowley, but he wasn’t complaining as it made his job much easier. He was able to focus on the acting with the cast of the play. He tried not to go on too many rants about how Shakepeare wasn’t the end all and be all everyone thought he was. The children didn’t need that. They just wanted to put on a play. He spent a lot of time explaining the language of the play and helped the children understand exactly what they were saying.
--
The next two weeks passed with minor incidents both onstage and in the scene shop. One of the actors managed to fall off the stage and break their arm. Another student barely managed to avoid cutting off their fingers with a saw. After that, Mr. Golding declared that only adults could use the power tools, much to the chagrin of the other children. Adam was steadily getting proficient at the light board in the booth. Crowley left him to it. The rest of the Them helped Aziraphale paint the set that was now mostly built. Crowley did wonder if they were making progress too quickly. But he reasoned that they were able to dedicate more time than most and shrugged it off. So long as the angel didn’t do anything too showy, they would be fine.
During work breaks, Aziraphale would regale everyone with stories about Shakespeare. Mr. Golding thought it a bit odd that he spoke almost as if he was there, but maybe Aziraphale was just an enthusiastic storyteller. The children seemed to enjoy it and it kept them engaged with the whole production. Mr. Golding could never hold their attention for this long. He planned on asking Aziraphale what his trick was. (There was no trick, Aziraphale was just that good.)
The two main sets were the town and the woods. A large drop was used as the woods and some flats were brought onstage for the town. The Fairie court had extra greens and some twinkling lights one of the Them found in an old storage container. All in all, it was shaping up quite nicely. Though Crowley did have to use a tiny miracle to fix the batton the drop was hung from. The costumes were also coming together well under Anathema’s direction. The Fairie king and queen had appropriately resplendent costumes and the head of the ass was also looking good. Surprisingly, it was Brian that did most of the work on it. He apparently enjoyed all the detail work needed for it.
As things came together, Mr. Golding moved rehearsals from one of the classrooms to the stage. He set up a bunch of folding chairs and a table in front of the stage so he could watch and take notes. There was the obvious adjustment period of moving from one space to another, but the children took it in stride. Only a few dropped lines here and there. And only one student nearly fell off a platform. Mr. Golding counted that as a resounding success.
--
The dreaded tech week finally arrived. Crowley couldn’t understand why Mr. Golding referred to it as “hell week” when the children weren’t around. The first time they did a run through with lights and sound added in, the lighting system decided to blow several fuses that had to get fixed. Aziraphale wanted to miracle it all, but Crowley stopped him. It was clear what the problem was and if the humans suddenly found it fixed, that would look suspicious. Luckily nothing was beyond a quick repair and the rehearsal was able to continue. They did have to stop and go back a few times to get the timing right on light cues and scene changes. There was also an issue of the prop flowers used. Aziraphale had wanted to use real flowers, but someone in the cast was allergic to them. Much to his disappointment, they had to use fake ones. Crowley miracled up some that lit up to console the angel.
The second day of tech week saw one of the flats fall over and nearly squash the actor playing Helena. There was a lengthy break where the adults tried to figure out the best way to prevent that from happening again. It was decided that some weights would be added to the back of the flats and additional people would be used to move them. Crowley was beginning to see why it was called “hell week”. He was invested now and things kept going wrong. He tried to keep his spirits up for Aziraphale’s sake. The angel was getting a bit fussy, wanting everything to be just so. At one point, Crowley had to pull him out of the room so that Mr. Golding could actually do his job.
On the third day of tech, costumes were added in. Surprisingly, none of the costumes caused an issue. The actor playing Nick Bottom had been working with the donkey head for some time so was proficient in putting it on and taking it off quickly. There was a near disaster though when he missed a cue and had to toss the head to a stage hand. Thankfully, it didn’t get dropped. The Fairie court costumes were a hit with everyone.
The third night was also when they brought in the baby playing the changeling child. This almost went off without a hitch. Apparently the actor playing Titiana scared the young child. Everyone was at a loss until Aziraphale miracled the baby to sleep. For the rest of the night, the baby didn’t wake up once, even when someone dropped a book that caused quite the loud sound. It was decided that everyone would try to get the baby to sleep during the performance. Both Crowley and Aziraphale agreed that some intervention might be needed to achieve that and neither was hesitant about making sure that happened.
The final day of tech had no issues, much to the relief of Mr. Golding. Every entrance was on time, none of the set pieces fell, the lighting system behaved, and the baby slept through the whole rehearsal. All that was left to do was ensure that everything was put away properly and ensure that everything was ready for opening night. Crowley was actually surprised at himself. He enjoyed the process more than he thought he would. Maybe this whole theater thing wasn’t so bad. He refused to tell the angel though, no need to get him in a tizzy right before the opening.
Both Aziraphle and Crowley were stagehands responsible for helping the children get into the right place and make sure no one tried to wander off with something they shouldn’t. Crowley got way too much enjoyment in seeing Aziraphale in all black clothing, as was required. Of course the angel made it his own by fancifying it far more than necessary. He looked like the world’s most elegant ninja. Crowley didn’t have to change his wardrobe at all to fit in.
Opening night went swimmingly. The gym was crowded with the families of everyone involved. There were some people just there for something to do on a Friday night. The following night saw even more townspeople in the audience not related to anyone involved. This was partly due to the fact that word had spread about the rather exquisite performance from secondary school children and partly because Crowley had tempted some people to come for the sake of Aziraphale.
The disaster that was the point of this story happened on the Sunday matinee that was also the show’s closing. The entire show had all gone according to the script. Right up until Puck’s final monologue . The lights were low, there was a spotlight center stage for Puck, the audience was hushed. Everything was perfect. And then, without warning, one of the lights hanging over the stage crashed to the floor. Luckily it wasn’t anywhere near anyone. Both Crowley and Aziraphle panicked. Each tried to fix the problem without communicating. Which caused an even bigger problem.
Aziraphale’s plan was to miracle the light back to where it was supposed to be. Crowley’s plan was to just disappear it. It was the end of the show anyway and wasn’t needed anymore. This resulted in an even larger flash of light than the fixture falling. There was also a loud bang as the fixture exploded and only some quick thinking by Crowley to turn the fixture into glitter at the last second saved anyone from getting hurt.
This happened so fast that no one realized what exactly had happened. Which was probably for the best. The town really didn’t need talk of disappearing lights and random explosions happening in schools. It was bad enough that there was an awful lot of confusion at the air base during the summer.
Somehow, Puck carried on as if this all was perfectly normal. It was rather quite professional of him. As the play ended and the lights came up, some of the adults were understandably confused. As everyone filed out, there was talk of a freak explosion. But wouldn’t that have left some kind of mark? But surely it wasn’t an electrical fire as that definitely would have left a mark. And why didn’t the fire alarm sound? At least the children were alright, no one even screamed. What no one saw was one angel and one demon quietly panicking in a corner.
“Angel, what exactly was your plan?” hissed Crowley.
“MY plan? I was going to fix the light!” cried Aziraphale.
“Why bother? The show was all but over anyway! It would have been better to just disappear the whole thing!”
“Well, true, but then the school would be without the light! You know they can’t afford to replace it right now!”
“You’re lucky I caught everything in time, glitter is a lot less harmful and suspicious than metal bits all over the place.”
“Yes, well, thank you for that I suppose. Do you think anyone noticed what really happened?”
“Not a chance, we worked fast enough. I heard some talk of an electrical failure. Nothing to do with disappearing lights or anything.”
“Do you think we’ll get in trouble with our respective offices?”
“Nah, none of the miracles were big enough to cause a stir and no one got hurt.”
Just then, Anathema and Newt came running over. “Am I to assume that you gentlemen are responsible for the added special effects this evening?”
“It wasn’t on purpose!” exclaimed Crowley.
“We were helping!” Aziraphale chimed in.
“Right, helping looks like making a lighting fixture disappear in the middle of a performance with over a hundred people watching?” Anathema said with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re probably the only one tuned in enough to have noticed exactly what happened. I was just telling angel that everyone thinks it was an electrical failure of some kind,” explained Crowley.
“Right, and when they come in here tomorrow to investigate, don’t you think they’ll wonder why everything looks totally fine?”
“I-hadn’t thought of that,” said Aziraphale with a sheepish look. Usually when his miracles went wrong, there weren’t so many witnesses.
“Even if they do wonder, they’ll have no reason to connect it to an angel or demon, we’ll be fine,” interjected Crowley.
“There probably is some truth to that,” Anathema sighed. She had hoped there wouldn’t be any hijinks this time around. She probably should just learn to accept that they were inevitable with these two.
“Right, well there’s nothing to be done now. Let’s just get out of here,” said Crowley.
They all headed toward the exit but were stopped by Mr. Golding and the Them. Mr. Golding looked confused while the children looked excited.
“The kids want me to ask if you two would be willing to help with future productions,” said Mr. Golding.
“Please?” the Them said in unison.
“We’d be delighted to!”
“Must we?”
The two immortals looked at each other.
“One a year,” Crowley conceded. “And no more Shakespeare!”
“Well we can agree on that,” chuckled Mr. Golding. “I did hear from the school that they’ll let me pick the productions for next year since I did such a bang up job on this one.”
“Well that’s wonderful to hear!” said Aziraphale.
“I can’t thank you both enough for your help. Especially getting the kids engaged. That’s always the hardest part,” Mr Golding said.
“We were delighted to, weren’t we, Crowley?” prodded Aziraphale.
“Right, proper delighted,” mumbled the demon. “Can we go?”
With that settled, everyone walked out of the gym to be picked up by parents or to drive back to the cottage.
A few days later, Aziraphale decided to head back to London, much to the relief of Crowley. As they made their way toward the city, Aziraphale kept thinking back to Mr. Golding. There was something about him the angel couldn’t quite place his finger on. No matter, he seemed a lovely fellow.
When they finally made it back, Crowley immediately darted inside to check on his plants and take a much overdue nap in his favorite chair. Aziraphale meandered inside after looking over the exterior of the shop to see if anything needed fixing in his absence. Everything seemed to be in order so he went inside. He found Crowley nestled in his favorite spot. He carefully draped a blanket over the sleeping snake and went to go make a cup of tea. It was business as usual for them it seemed. With the added trip to Tadfield once a year to help with the Them’s theater production. He wondered how long that arrangement would last. Eventually the Them would grow up. And maybe they’d lose interest in the theater. Who knew. Aziraphale would enjoy it while it lasted. And he suspected that Crowley enjoyed his time in Tadfield more than he let on. They had their whole future ahead of them to bicker about taking vacations. Aziraphle couldn't wait.