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The innkeeper raised an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry? A holiday ?” His voice was full of skepticism. What was this man trying to pull?
“Oh yes, a big one in fact. Huge. You should really have it off. I mean, I’d take it off if I were you.”
The innkeeper didn’t move. If it was possible for his eyebrow to raise higher it would. Instead, he crossed his arms to make his point. Whatever this red-haired buffoon thought he was playing at, the innkeeper wasn’t having it. He had a job to do and his livelihood depended on him doing it properly. The strange man before him sighed and shook his head. He looked around before turning back to the innkeeper and removing his dark eye coverings. Now the innkeeper moved, taking a step back with fear on his face. The man’s eyes were a fiendish yellow, a black slit running down the centre of each. These were not human eyes.
“Listen,” the fiendish man said, moving forward to close the space between them, “how much trouble do you really want here? Because honestly, I’m up for just about anything myself. Your choice.” His voice was a low growl, a snarl emphasizing the word “anything” in a way that made the innkeeper shudder involuntarily. He swallowed and took a breath before replying, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.
“I – uh – I think I’ll go and, um, take the night off,” he said, backing away.
“Good idea,” the strange man said, watching him go. It took every ounce of self-control for the innkeeper not to run away at full speed.
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Crawley sighed, replacing his glasses. He took up the man’s post behind the counter, flinging himself into the seat and putting his feet up on the desk. It could be worse. At least he didn’t need to actually do much. He closed his eyes and relaxed, prepared to wait or sleep, whichever came first. He didn’t know how much time passed, and honestly he didn’t care either.
A bell rang.
There was no bell to ring. Well, rather, there hadn’t been one a couple of minutes...hours...whatever ago. Crawley opened an eye and found a small silver hotel bell on the desk where his feet rested. That was odd. He leaned to the side so he could see around his feet. A familiar face stood there, with his arms crossed and his foot tapping impatiently.
“What, exactly, are you doing here, Crawley?” demanded the angel before him. The demon leaned back in his chair before answering.
“Saving up for a Ferrari,” he replied. Crawley felt Aziraphale deserved a bit of sarcasm. He’d miracled up a bell for Hell’s sake!
“I’m being serious, Crawley. You can’t possibly be here to cause trouble, can you?”
Ask a stupid question… “No, I’m on holiday.”
“Oh, well that’s a relief,” Aziraphale said with a pleased sigh. Crawley all but jumped out of his seat and took off his glasses so he could get a better look at the angel’s face. He wasn’t serious was he? He was!
“Hell doesn’t give holidays, Hell doesn’t believe in holidays. Of course I’m here to cause trouble!’” He put on his best mocking-voice just for the occasion of throwing Aziraphale’s words back at him. The angel straightened, clearly agitated. Heh, so easy.
“Well,” Aziraphale replied, with a tone that was meant to make him sound important, “then it’s a good thing I got here first. A rather long time ago, in fact, to make sure I could keep you from doing precisely that!”
Crawley rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Angel. Well done.”
“Oh!” The genuine surprise in Aziraphale’s voice caught Crawley by surprise. “Do you really think so?” There was actual hope in his face. In fact, Aziraphale’s eyes were practically sparkling at the idea that someone thought he’d done a good job. Cripes, was the bar really that low?
“Erm...” The demon hesitated a moment before replying with a careful, “….yes...” Because really, he would have to be literal Satan himself to say anything else. Aziraphale beamed with genuine delight. Crawley raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get any words out, a trumpet sounded. The demon snapped his mouth shut and dove under the desk.
“Ah, Aziraphale!” came the voice of Gabriel. Pah! They sent that prick here? For what? Apparently Aziraphale had already thwarted him.
“Oh! Well, hello Ga--”
“--I need you to go get the shepherds.”
“So soon? But she hasn’t even arrived yet, let alone given birth.”
“And the shepherds will need that time to get here , won’t they?”
“I, ah, right. Yes, of course, Gabriel. Excellent foresight as always.”
“Thank you. Now go . Vamoose . Shoo-shoo !”
Honestly sometimes Crawley really wanted to punch that wanker in the throat. As it was, he waited under the desk until he felt the angelic entities leave and take their disgusting holiness with them. It was then and only then that Crawley stood up from under the desk to resume his seat and his nap.
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The bell rang.
Wait...bell? Oh, right, the bell . Apparently Aziraphale hadn’t miracled the damn thing away and had just left it there. Crawley groaned and opened his eyes. He half-expected to find the angel there again, but instead he was surprised to see a very pregnant young woman with a man who Crawley could only assume was her husband. She looked very anxious, and seemed to have trouble staying on her feet, but for the support of her husband’s arms.
“Please,” the man said to Crawley, “my wife is with-child and we need a place to stay for the night. Is there a room we could have? I’ll pay you whatever you ask.”
Well, fuck.
When he’d taken this assignment, Crawley had known of course that Mary would be pregnant when she arrived. What he hadn’t expected was for her to look quite so young. Like, SO young. And also so scared . Okay well, lucky for him he was already thwarted anyway. He pulled the ledger from beneath the desk, playing out the role of Innkeeper to the last, and opened it to find…that all the rooms were booked. The entire place was booked up solid. There wasn’t a single room he could give them.
But Aziraphale had said...had the angel made a mistake? He was so clever that a mistake seemed unlikely. Considerably more likely was the possibility that Aziraphale had reserved her a room, and his reservation was somewhere among the rest. Crawley looked up to see the young mother-to-be practically in tears. He shut the book.
Right. There had to be something he could do. He was already thwarted for Satan’s sake! Think quick, think quick-
He had an idea. It was far from ideal, but at least the poor girl wouldn’t have to be scared and without a safe place to stay. Crawley cleared his throat.
“Uhm,” he began, “I’m afraid that all of the rooms have been taken for the night.” Mary looked as though she would burst into tears. Oh nononono. “But, ah, listen, I know it’s not great given the, ah, lady’s condition, but I can set you up in the stable.” Tears began streaming down Mary’s face. Crawley couldn’t look at her, so he looked at Joseph instead. “Look, it’s all I can do, but I promise the moment I can get you into a proper room I will.”
All he had to do was wait until Aziraphale got back. No doubt one of these rooms was for her, he just needed Aziraphale to tell him which one.
Joseph, face a mix of sadness and worry, looked from Crawley to his wife, then back before nodding agreement.
“Consider it on the house,” Crawley said, and helped them with their things.
---------
Hours went by. This time Crawley was counting.
He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Hadn’t even been able to sit still. Instead, the demon had resorted to pacing around the lobby, snarling at anyone who wasn’t Joseph coming in to ask him for something. Honestly, where was he? Where was that blasted Aziraphale when Crawley actually needed him? How long did it take to give a couple of shepherds directions? More than once while waiting and pacing, Crawley checked to make sure that he hadn’t stopped time by accident. Unfortunately, he had no such luck. He just had to wait, and it was excruciating . Every minute, every second he could feel time running out. It slipped through his fingers and made him wish there was something more he could do. Anything to relieve the feeling of anxiety that overwhelmed him. He felt like he was drowning in it. If Aziraphale was much longer, it would be too late. What, in all of Creation, was taking him so long?
The sun was setting by the time he finally felt Aziraphale’s presence return, and Crawley nearly jumped at him. It took restraint for him to take a deep breath and turn to face the angel calmly. The sight waiting for him stopped him in his tracks. If only because he was trying not to laugh.
Aziraphale coughed and spat. He wiped bits of vegetable from his robe, and chunks of something brown from his hair that Crawley didn’t want to question. “Honestly!” the angel said in disgust, “the audacity ! The...the...utter lack of manners !” He looked up at Crawley and sighed in frustration.
“You alright there, Angel?” Crawley asked, trying desperately to contain his laughter. Aziraphale shook as he pointed at Crawley.
“I…will have none of your gloating, demon! I have had pitchforks launched at me, tomatoes thrown at me, and...and...GUH--” he heaved a very un-angelic gag. Ah, so it was dung then. Aziraphale regained his composure. “It...has been a very trying day. Apparently most humans do not take kindly to the standard ‘be not afraid.’ I’ll be sure to have a word with Headquarters about that script.”
“Eugh, right,” Crawley replied. “Good luck with that.” Get to the point, get to the point. “So she arrived.”
Aziraphale brightened almost immediately. “Oh!” he said, cleaning himself up with a click of his fingers. “What’s she like? Is she lovely?” His face was glowing with wistfulness that nearly made Crawley gag. Come on Angel, this is important!
“She’s damn near bursting,” he answered.
“Well I should expect so,” Aziraphale replied with a chuckle.
“And she’s young, angel.”
“I mean, I would expect --”
“ Very young.”
“...Oh.” Aziraphale went silent. That’s right, Crawley couldn’t help but think, look at what your precious Heaven likes to do to people. To women, to girls who are barely too old to still be called children. He pushed the anger down. This wasn’t about him.
“Angel,” he tried again, softer this time. “She’s scared.”
Aziraphale nodded. “Right, well, which room is she in?”
Crawley scrunched his face in confusion. “Which room? Angel the--”
Screams interrupted him. Screams that were coming from the stable. Oh fuck. Mary was in labour. Crawley and Aziraphale looked at each other before both making a mad dash for the source of the screaming. There was no time to think, they both ran full speed into the stable, where Mary was on the ground screaming through her contractions. Joseph was by her side, well-meaning, but clueless.
“Crawley,” said Aziraphale, his voice shaking with rage, “why on EARTH is she in the STABLE?”
Mary screamed again.
“Because! All of the rooms were full! The entire inn was booked! There was no place to put her!”
“You...you...” Aziraphale stamped his foot in anger “That was ME! I booked those rooms! All of them! So that Mary would have a place to give birth and so all the guests would have places to stay!”
“You WOT? Why didn’t you tell me ?!”
“Well I was going to , but then Gabriel came and--”
Their argument was halted by another piercing scream.
“Right,” Aziraphale said, “we should move her now while we still can.”
“DON’T YOU DARE!” Mary growled with such volume and intensity that both celestials took a step back. They looked at each other.
“Well I’m not moving her,” Crawley said, deciding to take Mary’s side rather than face her wrath. Aziraphale gaped at him helplessly for a moment before Mary screamed out another contraction. They both winced. Joseph’s hand was clenched in Mary’s, turning white from the sheer force of her grip on him. He wasn’t going anywhere either.
“I don’t understand!” Mary sobbed, “it’s supposed to be painless! He SAID it would be PAINLESS!”
Despite himself, Crawley snorted out a laugh. “PFFT. Who told you that?”
“The Archangel Gabriel himself came and told me.”
The angel and the demon looked at each other. Well. This was awkward.
“Ah,” said Aziraphale, “well, you see, the thing about that is--”
Mary screamed.
“I...Crawley DO SOMETHING!” Aziraphale cried desperately.
“NOPE,” said Crawley, turning on his heel to leave, “I’m out.”
“DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE!!” Mary shrieked, “OR SO HELP ME I WILL END YOU.”
The demon stopped in his tracks. He turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, looking like he’d been caught stealing cookies.
“I… ugh...ngk.”
“DO SOMETHING YOU USELESS SACK OF DUNG!” Oh, the gloves were off now.
“You heard her, Crawley!” said Aziraphale, seizing the opportunity to shift responsibility. “Do something!”
“I...uh...I don’t suppose anyone needs any shoes?” The demon tried weakly. Mary screamed.
“Crawley!” Aziraphale scolded.
The demon threw up his hands. “Fine!” he conceded with a grumble, “Fine, obstetrics it is! Again! For real...FUCK.”
To everyone’s surprise, no one died.
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Thanks to Gabriel’s planning, guests started arriving to see the baby within the hour of Mary giving birth to him. Crawley despised how little time Mary was allowed to recover. As it was, the only reason Mary was fit to see anyone was thanks to Aziraphale clicking his fingers. By the time she thought to ask any questions, the first of the guests arrived to admire and coo at her newborn. Crawley and Aziraphale stood back and watched people arrive and visit from the sidelines. Aziraphale’s face, much to Crawley’s distaste, was full of...wonder and joy. He could have vomited right there.
“You know, Crawley,” Aziraphale said, looking at him with a sideways smirk, “I think you did-”
-don’t,” Crawley snapped. Aziraphale stopped speaking, and instead turned his attention back to Mary and her baby.
“Aren’t they wonderful?” the angel asked instead, clasping his hands together in admiration. “The both of them. Mary and Jesus, the Son of Our God.”
Crawley scrunched up his face. “Nyeugh, yeah, well, they’re something alright.” He looked over at Aziraphale, whose eyes were still shining and glued to the mother and infant. The demon looked away. He shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t for him. The kid wasn’t his saviour or anything. He turned on his heel and left, half hoping that Aziraphale would notice and follow. To his dismay, no such thing happened.
And thus Crawley ended up sitting outside the door of the inn, watching alone as groups of random folk wandered in. Occasionally someone would ask him for directions, and in response Crawley would only point. What was he still doing here? Who or what was he waiting for? He should just skip town, is what he should do. Move on, go forth somewhere, spread some evil or discontent or something properly...demon-y? Demon-like? Whatever. What exactly had Hell wanted from this placement anyway? Just a set of eyes on the whole thing? Crawley shuddered at the thought. Well, he had certainly been that .
His thought spiral was interrupted when he heard someone crying. Now wait a minute, wallowing in self-pity was his place here. Who on earth was crying ? He got up and started looking around only to find...a kid. A child. A young boy in fact. What was his problem? Probably couldn’t find his mum or something. Crawley sidled up to the boy, cautiously mind you, just in case it was a trap or something.
“Uh...you alright?” he asked uncertainly. The small boy looked up at him with big, wet eyes. His whole face, small though it was, was red and puffy from crying. Ooooh this was not something he wanted to deal with but, well, too late now wasn’t it?
“I shouldn’t be here,” the boy said, fighting back tears. Now that was strange. This boy was human – the whole point of the Messiah thing was to help him. Surely he must mean something else. Lost parent or something, yeah?
“Did you lose your mum? Or...your dad or...your...ugh...grown up?”
The boy shook his head. “They’re not here. I...I was watching the sheep and...I was told to come and...I just got swept up in it all. They told me I could meet a King!” His face showed desperation and misery, and it took everything Crawley had not to recoil from it. “And I thought – how amazing would that be? But I mean...I don’t even know what I’m doing here! Everyone brought gifts. Gold and...and...fancy perfumes, and...something called myrrh. WHAT EVEN IS MYRRH?” The boy looked at Crawley pleadingly.
The demon coughed. “Erhm...just another fancy perfume really.” Honestly, had no one thought to bring anything practical ? How about a blanket? Or nappies? Or clothes . Cripes, humans could be stupid.
“I have nothing ,” the boy continued. “What right do I have to meet this King next to people bringing gold ?” Well, fair enough, Crawley figured. Fancy rich folks were a hard act to follow. The demon sighed and sank down next to the boy.
“Honestly I don’t know,” he said. “But, uh, I promise you have just as much right to be here as the rich ones do.” It was then that he saw the drum. “Is that yours?”
The boy looked forlornly at the drum next to him. “Yeah.”
“Do you play?”
“Well yeah. Not very well, but dad made it for me so I could have something to do while watching the sheep.”
Crawley laughed. He could all too well see the boy’s parents gifting him this drum and then sending him out to practice far away from their own ear drums.
“Right,” said Crawley when he managed to calm his laughter, “Here’s an idea. Why not take that drum of yours and go play it for that King.”
The boy tilted his head, confusion taking charge over his smile. “Isn’t he a baby? Wouldn’t that be bad for his...ears or something?”
“Naah,” Crawley replied with a dismissive wave. “Trust me when I say that this baby...is...a special sort. Very special. In fact,” the demon closer as though it were some sort of secret, “I rather think he might like it.” And fuck it all if he didn’t, Crawley thought to himself. This boy deserved to be here too. Who this child was, and what he brought with him was enough. Full stop. End of discussion.
The boy’s face lit up at the thought. “Do you really think so?” he asked hopefully.
“Oh, absolutely,” Crawley replied with a smile. The young boy brought his lips together in thought, then seemed to make a decision. He stood and picked up his drum.
“Thank you,” he said. Then he ran off into the crowd. Crawley watched after him for a moment, then stood with a sigh. Right, time for him to find a place where he could have some peace and quiet. He turned away from the noise, and stopped short. Aziraphale was watching him with a smile, a bottle of wine in his hand. Crawley glowered.
“You saw nothing ,” he growled.
“I have no idea what you’re even talking about,” Aziraphale said with a roll of his eyes. Wait a minute, had he really not seen...Crawley raised an eyebrow. Well, better to shift the topic.
“Wine, Angel?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle. “What happened to it being the source of drunkenness?”
“Well,” Aziraphale replied thoughtfully, “I figured that if there was anything worth...indulging over, it would be the birth of the Messiah.”
Crawley all but spat. “You’re joking, right?”
“Hardly,” Aziraphale said. He looked pointedly at the demon. “Besides, the crowd has become much too large in there.”
For the first time, it was as though Crawley was hearing something entirely different. I noticed you left , it said, It didn’t feel right without you there. I’d rather spend the evening with you. The demon looked away, trying to hide the blush he felt rising to his cheeks.
“Right,” he said, pretending to scan the ground of the inn. “Better find you someplace quiet then.”
They ended up on the rooftop of the main building. Here, for the first time since Uz, they spent the night in each other’s company. And for the first time, they drank and laughed. Together.