Chapter Text
Aziraphale stood at the eastern edge of the public garden, staring across the raised beds of vegetables, the flowers for the pollinators, and the cheerfully decorated pots, to where Crowley was working with a group of children to get some new starter plants in an empty box. He was directing a scene of productive chaos—adding to it as much as any of the children—now and again fighting a grin at their antics. His clothing style had changed again, though that might've been in consideration of the work, jacket and scarf tie replaced with a form-fitting T-shirt, but the tight jeans were still present. His hair was still short, though less styled, shining in the sun, and his movements were as loose and flowing as always. He swerved around the children, dodging their enthusiastically flailing limbs while arming them with gardening tools. When he provided one with an active water hose that resulted in them immediately spraying every child in the vicinity, Crowley just laughed. It was one of the few times Aziraphale had ever been able to watch him unobserved, and his chest tightened. Crowley was magnificent; how had anyone thought Aziraphale would give him up?
Why had he actually done so?
Guilt and shame pressed down on him again, forcing him to look away, every second between the elevator and now heavy as a stone. He'd been an utter fool. Worse, he'd been one after Crowley had told him point blank that's what he was being. But he had been so certain of himself it had taken so long to see he was wrong. Maybe too long.
When he looked back up, Crowley had gone still. He stood in the centre of the chaos of children, but his gaze was fixed across the garden to where Aziraphale stood.
With a nervous smile, Aziraphale raised his hand. It seemed to snap Crowley out of his shock. He called someone else over to handle the planting—the poor woman immediately retrieved the hose from the child—and sauntered through the planting boxes to where Aziraphale waited.
"Aziraphale," he said. "What do you need?"
"I— nothing. Nothing." That wasn't true, of course. He needed more things than he could find words for, but he didn't deserve any of them. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."
"Spies not doing a good enough job for you?"
"Sp— They weren't spies."
"No? Because they had that whole 'surreptitious observation' thing going. Least, as surreptitious as angels get, which means completely obvious."
Aziraphale winced. They weren't supposed to have been noticed, but he supposed to achieve that, they'd have to know what was suspicious and what wasn't. He'd really tried to get them to understand more about human behaviour, but that was one more losing battle among many. "They were just there to make sure you were okay."
"That I was 'okay?' You thought having a bunch of angels watching my every move would make me okay? You— No. No, I'm not doing this. You know what? You don't get to know how I'm doing. You don't get to pretend you care."
"I do care."
"You left!" Crowley snapped.
"I asked you to come with me!"
"And you still don't see why that was a terrible idea."
His annoyance deflated, and he looked away. "No. I do."
"Oh. Well. That's something, at least."
When he risked a look up, Crowley was studying him, and he was suddenly glad of the sunglasses hiding his friend's eyes. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the expression there, not when the look itself was so pointed.
"So, what are you—"
"Mr. Crowley! Mr. Crowley!" a small pack of children ran up to him, shouting. "They're back and they're telling Miss. Lasha they're going to destroy the garden!"
"Damn. I have to..." Crowley said as the children grabbed his hands and arms and started pulling him toward the garden entrance.
"Yes, of course," Aziraphale said, following along so Crowley wouldn't have to reason to resist. "This sounds serious."
"It is," he said as the children let him go to run ahead now that he was actually following. "I just need a little more time."
When they got to the park entrance, there was a loud commotion, shouting between the garden staff and what appeared to be a combination of business people in suits and people in work garb with tools, including several small but threatening looking little bobcats.
"You have no right to be here," one gardener said. "The matter isn't settled yet."
"This is city property and the parks department can remove any unauthorized installations. That is what we are going to do," the lead suit-person said. "We've already delayed too long."
"You need it to go back to being a vacant lot so much?" the gardener said. "Vital use of empty space or something?"
"This lot is planned for development—"
"When? In the year 3000?"
"Hey, hold on here," Crowley said as he joined the fray, clearly putting a little something extra in his words to get them to pay attention. "There's a stay of removal, court issued and all." He took out some papers, but the person in the suit waved it off.
"That will expire in an hour."
"Then we have an hour."
"And we have more places than this to deal with. An hour isn't going to make a difference."
"It can make a world of difference," Crowley insisted. "What you're doing here is not going to go well for you."
"Get out of our way or we'll have you all arrested. We are taking back this lot, and we are doing it now."
Crowley scowled, scanning the group in front of the garden. Aziraphale wasn't certain what Crowley could do, especially given he had been trying to keep a low profile since the whole Gabriel debacle. Aziraphale, on the other hand, didn't much care if he upset Heaven, not anymore. Before the arguing started again, he placed a blessing of protection over the garden.
Crowley spun to look at him, and he shrugged. While they were distracted, one of the little bobcats started up and drove toward a section of fence. While the chain-link might be enough to keep away stray animals and casual passersby, it was nothing compared to someone determined to get in. Especially not someone with a machine that would knock it down in seconds. When the bobcat reached the fence, however, the engine sputtered, coughed, and stilled. The operator inside punched frantically at the controls, but couldn't get it working again.
While they were trying to figure it out, a car pulled up, and a new person in a suit got out. This time, however, Crowley met their appearance with exasperated relief.
"Finally," he muttered.
"What's going on here?" the new suit-person said.
"None of your business," the old suit-person said.
"I rather think it is." At that, the old suit-person turned to look and the new one, and began to sputter.
"Councilwoman Phelps, I didn't expect to see you here."
"Obviously you didn't. Why are you trying to execute an order that has not been granted, an hour before the final verdict was set to be released?"
"We're just trying to be efficient here."
"Well, you can be efficient by not causing these poor people to restart their dedicated and difficult work." The councilwoman snapped a set of folded papers to the other's chest, like something out of a moving picture show. "The council approved the garden. It remains here."
A cheer rose from the people in the garden, the children ecstatic. It was so joyous, Aziraphale couldn't help but join in, even though he really had no idea what was going on. When he found Crowley in the crowd, he'd fallen back from the front where there were now news reporters and cameras, but his celebration was just as joyous as the rest. It was, perhaps, the happiest Aziraphale had seen him since the end of the world. He was radiant, and Aziraphale couldn't help but sigh as he wished he'd gotten to see that more often over the course of their existence. But thoughts like that were part of what had landed him here, weren't they? No. He needed to take these moments and appreciate them when they came, because they did, and probably more often than he'd ever allowed himself to see.
When Crowley caught him watching, some of that radiance dimmed, and Aziraphale felt it like a fist clenching his heart. He had no one to blame but himself.
He crept forward through the crowd, close enough that he was able to hear as Crowley caught the attention of another parks worker.
"Hey Gigi, I'm going to dip out while the cameras are here. Back after lunch, yeah?"
"You sure you don't want to say anything?" she asked, but with the teasing tone of someone who knew the answer was the exact opposite.
Crowley gave her a look, and she smirked, at least until she caught sight of Aziraphale.
"That's him, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You don't have to, you know?"
"I know. Back soon."
"Hrm." The look she gave Aziraphale was daunting, and he braced himself as Crowley joined him.
"Come on. There's a place down the street I think you'll like."
"Thank you," he said, holding the words closer than they probably deserved. But the fact that Crowley still thought of places in terms of whether Aziraphale would like them or not was a positive sign when he really needed one.
They didn't talk as they walked down the street, leaving Aziraphale to deal with the conflicting emotions of being relieved to have Crowley at his side again, and feeling the pressure of the distance between them. He needed to bridge that, to be as brave as Crowley had been before Aziraphale left, but he wasn't certain he could do it.