Chapter Text
Aziraphale knew she didn’t look her best that day. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to be measuring people and taking notes throughout the readthrough that day (even though that was her job), and had gotten entirely engrossed in her newest book. It was almost miraculous that she happened to look up at the clock as she was making her third cup of tea for the day. She suddenly realised that she had to leave in fifteen minutes to make it in time; buses could be so finicky! She barely had time to put on a button up, waistcoat, and trousers, quickly slip into her flats, grab her bag and travel mug, and totter to the nearest bus stop. Aziraphale did, however, manage to apply her eyeliner and check that her white-blonde hair was tastefully messy, before her stop.
She made it to the theatre just in time, rushing into the rehearsal room, gasping for breath. After catching the director’s eye and giving him a nod, she sat next to the stage manager, where she went through her bag quietly. Aziraphale pulled out her already-tattered copy of the script, her laptop, her sketchbook, her current knitting project, and a few pens and highlighters from her pocket, before she set it all on the table and looked up at the director expectantly.
“Right. Nice to see you all.”
The director, Gabriel, was a middle aged man, though Aziraphale knew he could be surprisingly nice despite how stuck up he seemed. He wore a fine grey suit, which made Aziraphale feel a bit shy – she hadn’t dressed up as much as she usually did – and first impressions were everything!
“We’re still waiting on one more…” Gabriel trailed off, looking around the room.
Suddenly, the door swung open and what Aziraphale could only comprehend as a red and black streak, at first, rushed into the room. They tossed their bag down and sat in the only empty seat, which was directly across from where Aziraphale sat. She blinked, hard, unable to understand what she was seeing. The person who’d just sat down was a slender, red-haired person wearing a fashionable blazer, tie, long flowing skirt, and dark sunglasses, even though they were inside. Their jet-black cane was swiftly placed on the ground by long, black-varnished fingers, and they smiled apologetically as they pulled out their script. Aziraphale opened her laptop – she needed to look like she was doing something – and created a new spreadsheet where she would store all the cast’s measurements.
“Ah, Antonia, lovely of you to join us.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows, though it seemed lighthearted.
“‘S Crowley, Gabe.” Her voice was deep and sultry, and Aziraphale bit back a smile.
“Touché.” He shrugged, looking next to him at the person who sat in between him and Aziraphale. “Beez?”
The shorter person with black hair and dark makeup raised their eyebrows. “Right. Call me Bea or Beez. I’ll be your stage manager. If you have a problem, you come to me.”
Gabriel nodded. “Alright, Aziraphale, wanna introduce yourself?”
She nodded, beaming around the room – and if she looked at the person called Crowley for slightly longer, who was to say? “I’m Aziraphale- it’s a mouthful, I know, if you forget it, I don’t mind at all. I’m the costumer for you all, so please let me know what you’re comfortable with or any specific needs whenever you get a chance. I can work around much of anything!”
Aziraphale suddenly felt a bit embarrassed as she spotted that Crowley appeared to be looking at her. Of course they would be looking at her, she was talking, but it still got her a little flustered. She looked down awkwardly.
She’d been hit with a bit of sudden inspiration for Crowley’s costume; Crowley’s gorgeous long red hair made her want to keep it like that, despite the usual look that people went with for their role. Aziraphale barely paid attention to what Gabriel was talking about – presumably why he chose to direct the show and his vision for it – she was too focused on the things she hoped to see Crowley in. She was sketching quickly, and Gabriel was just background noise for her at this point.
“-aphale?”
She looked up quickly, eyes wide. “Uh- yes?”
Everyone around the table – except Crowley, who was looking down at their script – was staring at her. “Did you have anything ready to show us?”
“Oh- yes, of course!”
She flicked back a few pages of her sketchbook, holding up a few drawings of her plans for all the characters. She made sure to slow down when an actor seemed intrigued, smiling shyly when they complimented her ideas. She did skip over where she’d drawn Frank-n-Furter’s, however, as she’d been anticipating a regular looking man playing him, but she heard an indignant noise from across the room.
“Sorry, d’you mind if I see Frank’s?” That same soft yet deep voice rang out, and Aziraphale felt her cheeks burn in nervousness.
“Uh- well-”Aziraphale set her sketchbook down, lacing her fingers together on top of it protectively. “I- uh-”
Crowley raised one of those gorgeous eyebrows, pushed themself out of their seat and leaned on their cane. They sauntered around the table until they stood right next to her, placing a hand on the table for balance. Aziraphale trained her eyes on their pointed black nails, pale with nervousness.
“You drew something for it, right?” They leaned over, peering at the sketchbook.
She mumbled something quietly about how she was too embarrassed, flipping instead to the page she’d just been working on. It portrayed Crowley more distinctly than her previous sketches, or than sketches for costumes really should, but she seemed to have become quite fixated on the deep grooves in Crowley’s angular face. The other person hovered over her for what should have been an uncomfortable amount of time, but Aziraphale was too preoccupied, feeling her heart pounding in her ears that she perceived it as simultaneously much too long and much too short.
Crowley nodded, looked away, and walked back to their seat across the room. She still could feel her heart racing, and swiftly folded her hands in front of her to retain some of her dignity. The other person probably wasn’t intentionally teasing her, and yet Aziraphale remained embarrassed and mildly preoccupied in imagining Crowley in the outfit she’d designed. Her mind was racing with ideas, and she wondered for a moment if she’d even be able to do her job properly while Crowley was present.
The first part of the readthrough went shockingly well – the actors even knew the songs, for the most part, so their musical director would have a light load – and Aziraphale got plenty of notes from Gabriel about costume changes and things they would need to include. Though, she found herself getting more tired throughout it, as she had finished her tea about an hour before, and occupied herself with her knitting as she read along. Aziraphale stifled a yawn and ran her fingers through her hair, blinking as she looked around the room and saw most of the others in a similar state.
She jumped as she heard a loud clap from the man next to her, fumbling with her knitting needles, having been startled to the point of almost dropping them.
“Alright, take twenty. We’ll finish with the second act when you all are more awake.” Gabriel projected, perhaps louder than he needed to.
Aziraphale stood quickly, put all her things on the table, and grabbed her purse. She needed some more tea to wake herself up, so she rushed out of the room quickly to rinse out her travel mug. She was hopeful that the cafe that was right next to the theatre had those lovely chocolate croissants she adored, and she would get a small discount to use her own mug for some tea! The person behind her was very quiet; far away enough that she didn’t hear their footsteps as she walked down the street to the cafe.
She did see them, though, when she looked behind her to see if there was anyone she needed to hold the door for – and there was Crowley, in all their glory. They leaned on their cane, wind flowing through their skirt, and grinned, rather like a large carnivore looking at their prey, Aziraphale thought. She held the door for them silently, walking quickly up to the counter to try and avoid any interaction at all. Aziraphale was well aware that this was a professional setting, and actors could be so dramatic. She grinned at the barista, opening her mouth to say something, before-
“What’re you gettin’, angel?”
She turned to see Crowley next to her, looking up at the menu, and tried not to sputter in confusion. “What on earth- I’m trying to get my tea and pastry!”
“Mm. Which one?” She smiled at Aziraphale, who was suddenly flooded with the realisation that this was how people became friends.
“Oh- well I wanted some Earl Grey tea and, oh, look! My favourite chocolate croissant is from here!”
Crowley’s expression softened. “Right, let’s do that-” they said to the barista, before looking back at Aziraphale, “and you wanna use that mug?”
Aziraphale blinked and nodded, and Crowley took the mug from her hand, their fingers brushing each other softy.
“And a large black coffee in a cup. Take-away. Thanks.” They grinned at the barista, and before Aziraphale’s mind could even catch up with what was happening, Crowley had tapped their card on the machine and dropped a generous cash tip in the jar.
“What- what on earth?” Aziraphale mumbled as she followed Crowley to a table, where they sat across from each other.
She didn’t even understand why she’d followed Crowley over here, and she looked up at the redhead in shock.
“So. Costuming, huh?”
“What- did you- you paid for me?”
Crowley grinned devilishly. “I might have. Your drawing of me was just too nice. No one’s drawn me before.”
Aziraphale looked down in embarrassment. “I’m afraid I’m not all that good at drawing people – just costumes, really.”
“That’s not true at all. I thought it was absolutely gorgeous.”
Aziraphale turned a bit pink but was saved from her very stupid response (something like: “you’re gorgeous-”) by the barista calling out their orders, which she quickly stood to get. “Don’t worry. You stay sitting, I can handle it!”
She went up and grabbed their drinks and a bag containing her pastry, smiled at the barista, and took a deep breath before she headed back to Crowley. Aziraphale set Crowley’s coffee in front of them, sitting back down and folding her hands in her lap after setting her own things onto the table.
“I can handle myself, you know.”
The red haired person took a long swig of their coffee, raising their eyebrows at Aziraphale. “Well, you can.”
Aziraphale did not break eye contact, lips pressed into a thin line. Crowley set their coffee down on the table, propping her elbows up on the table, and resting her chin on her hands.
“Hm. Thank you, then.”
Aziraphale could see the faint outlines of her eyes from behind the sunglasses. “Of course. You did buy it for me. I’m going to have to pay you back.”
“Are you saying we’ll have to do this again?” Crowley grinned teasingly, and Aziraphale felt blood rush to her cheeks.
“I suppose we shall. Though I can’t imagine you’d want coffee again.”
“Right. Dinner, then?”
Aziraphale paused, unable to comprehend the fact that her flirting may have worked. “Doing anything tomorrow night?”
Crowley grinned, and Aziraphale intentionally tried to not look at their lips. “You, if you’re lucky.”
She had picked the wrong moment to have a sip of her tea and promptly choked on it, doubling over with a cough. “Crowley!”
The person in question snorted, watching Aziraphale with a grin. “Kiddin’, kiddin’.”
Aziraphale supposed their intentions were clear, then, and she nodded, standing from the table. “We should head back, my dear.”
As Crowley stood, Aziraphale fussed about putting the bag which contained her croissant into her purse, picking up her mug. She pursed her lips as she watched Crowley attempt to subtly stretch her legs before they headed off, and let Crowley set the pace on the walk back. They walked in comfortable silence before Crowley cleared their throat quietly.
“Where did you want to go? Any good restaurants?”
Aziraphale took a sip of her tea, thinking for a moment. “There’s a good sushi place near me, if you’d be interested in that?”
Crowley shrugged. “Sure.”
They reentered the theatre together, and Aziraphale felt a bit self conscious as most of the people in the rehearsal room were watching them enter – they weren’t even late! She rushed around the table back to her seat, and when she was far enough away from Crowley that she could safely look at them again, looked back up. Crowley seemed just as confident and nonchalant as ever; you’d never know that they’d just agreed to go on a date with Aziraphale, who was internally freaking out about it. She ran her fingers through her blond curls, hoping she didn’t look as embarrassed as she felt.
Gabriel began the second half of the readthrough a few minutes after, and Aziraphale wasn’t having trouble focusing because of exhaustion – she was having trouble focusing because she swore Crowley kept looking at her! She couldn’t exactly see behind the sunglasses, but she felt the sensation of being watched, and Crowley’s face was frequently turned towards her. She tried to focus herself on planning out some costumes and makeup for the other cast members in between sips of her tea, though she couldn’t stop herself from the occasional daydream about her.
When they were finally done, Aziraphale took her time packing up, while most of the others rushed out quickly or began talking amongst themselves. She hadn’t seen Crowley leave, but they were no longer in the room, so Aziraphale left and made her way to the bus stop. She pulled out her knitting, leaving the ball of yarn in her purse, humming as she waited for the next bus. There was a screeching noise in front of her, and she looked up to see a gorgeous old-looking black car with tinted windows pulled in front of her. The door swung open, and Aziraphale had to stop herself from beaming as she saw Crowley inside.
“Crowley!”
“Hop in, I’ll take you home.”
She tucked her knitting back into her purse, and nearly jumped off the bench with her excitement. Aziraphale let herself into the passenger side of the car, her heart racing. She barely had time to buckle herself in before Crowley pulled off, and she could faintly hear something that sounded a bit operatic on the radio, though the volume was very low.
She quietly gave directions to Crowley, who glanced at her more often than someone driving ought to. They pulled up in front of her bookshop much too quickly, and Aziraphale fidgeted with her hands in her lap without even unbuckling her seatbelt.
She could feel Crowley staring at her, and hoped that she didn’t seem as awkward as she felt. “So, tomorrow?”
Crowley grinned. “Yep, angel. I’ll come pick you up, if you like.”
“That sounds absolutely lovely, my dear-”
Aziraphale was cut off by Crowley pulling their phone out of their pocket and handing it to her. “You can put your number in. Just in case, ya know?”
She fumbled with the phone, quickly typing in her contact information with shaky fingers. “Alright, my dear.”
She handed the phone back to Crowley, trying not to frown as she unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed her purse. They exchanged a long look before Aziraphale got out of the car, closing the door as quietly as she could.
When she got across the street, she heard Crowley’s voice call to her, and she spun around.
“Aziraphale!”
She looked at the redhead, who had stepped out of the car too and was leaning on it, grinning at her. “Yes?”
“See you tomorrow!”
Crowley stepped back in the car and pulled off quickly, leaving Aziraphale feeling quite silly as she smiled widely, simply standing in front of her bookshop for a minute.
The next night, Aziraphale tied her bowtie, looking at herself in the mirror. Her lips were set in a thin line as she focused on making herself look as nice as possible. She really wanted to look perfect for her first date with Crowley – if she screwed something up, she would never let herself forget it and would probably think about it every night she lay awake in bed until the end of time. Aziraphale rarely went on dates; unable to feel anything but an overwhelming sense of awkwardness and dread. But she was hopeful – she never felt that way around Crowley. As she shrugged her coat on, she saw that black car parked outside her shop, and she ducked her head to hide a broad smile as she rushed outside.
She rushed downstairs from her flat to the bookshop, made her way to the car, where Crowley had gotten out of the car to open the passenger door for her. Aziraphale flushed, hiding a wobbly smile behind her hand as she stepped in. If Crowley was doing that, clearly it was a proper date. Crowley seemed to have dressed up too – she was wearing something incredibly similar to before, but her lips were tinted and Aziraphale could see her eye makeup behind the sunglasses when Crowley was looking at the road. She couldn’t help herself from thinking what a nice couple they’d make, but was interrupted from internally chastising herself about that thought when Crowley began speaking.
“How was your day, then?” Their voice was just as beautiful as Aziraphale remembered, and she nearly shivered when hearing it.
“It was very nice, but I’ve been looking forward to our date all day!”
Crowley’s eyes widened, and they appeared to choke a bit. “Ngk. Er. Date.”
Aziraphale wrung her hands in worry. “Oh dear. Was this not a date?”
“No it- it is- I-” Crowley’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight that their knuckles were turning pale, “I didn’t- know you wanted that too.”
“Of course I do!” Aziraphale insisted, feeling rather embarrassed.
“Well ‘s good we’re on the same page, then.”
Aziraphale grinned. “It is!”
Crowley seemed focused on parking the car. “Doesn’t have to mean anything. A date doesn’t have to be,” she waved her free hand aimlessly, “a big deal.”
She grinned shyly, looking over at the redhead. “I wouldn’t mind if it meant something.”
Crowley didn’t say anything, but the pink flush which rose to her cheeks and the bit of her lip she was now biting were telling enough.
They got out of the car together and shot each other an awkward smile before heading inside. Crowley talked to the hostess, and they headed towards a booth in the far corner of the restaurant.
Aziraphale smiled, resting her hands on the table. “Have you had sushi before, my dear?”
Crowley fidgeted before shaking her head shyly.
“You haven’t?”
She frowned. “I don’t eat all that much. Variety, I mean. Thought you could tell me about it.”
Aziraphale’s brain stalled, and she stared at the other woman in awe. “It wouldn’t be annoying to you?”
“Nah. ‘S great.”
“Well then, I suppose we should get some kind of platter with a few different kinds to try!” Aziraphale opened the menu happily, pale blue eyes flicking back and forth as she read through the options.
Azirapahle saw out of her periphery that Crowley was sitting still across from her, leaning her elbows on the table and staring right at her. Crowley didn’t seem to know that it was easy to tell where she was looking, despite her sunglasses, and Aziraphale felt her cheeks and tips of her ears burn in embarrassment.
Aziraphale looked up and pointed at a listing on the menu as she showed it to Crowley. “I think this is the best one to try for your first time! How do you feel about wine?”
The corner of Crowley’s lip twitched. “Big wine fan, me.”
“How about a nice white? I like a sauvignon blanc to have with sushi, but I’m open to trying something new!”
“Sounds good.”
Aziraphale beamed. “Oh, I’m glad you think so. The most traditional thing to do would be to have sake, but I do quite enjoy a good white with fish!”
Crowley grinned, but her hand quickly chased it and hid the gorgeous expression on her lips from Aziraphale. “Didn’t know you were so interested in all this.”
“Well-” Aziraphale bit her lip, tugging on the ends of her waistcoat, “I suppose everyone has to eat. So you might as well have fun with it!”
Crowley hummed softly. “Hm. Didn’t think of that. I never really enjoyed eating, ‘s just something I have to do.”
“What?” Aziraphale paled. “You don’t enjoy eating?”
She shook her head in response, shrugging.
“Well, we’ll just have to go out until you find something you do enjoy.”
Crowleye ran her fingers through her hair, caught off guard by the notion. “I- you- hng.”
Aziraphale raised her eyebrows.
“I- mm. That would be nice.” Crowley mumbled.
The waiter appeared by the end of the table, and Aziraphale gave her usual customer service grin and ordered for them both, tapping her fingers on her thigh under the table to regulate herself. Once the waiter walked away, Aziraphale gave Crowley another wide smile.
“So, what got you interested in the show?” she asked, watching Crowley’s eyes from behind her glasses.
“Mm. Usually ‘s just a job, but,” she looked up at the ceiling, voice dropping into a deeper tone as if admitting to a dark secret, “I really like Rocky Horror.”
Aziraphale gasped, wiggling with excitement. “Me too! I’ve always loved the costumes – and wow, the music is just phenomenal!”
Crowley bit back a grin. “Yeah! I was so excited when I saw the casting call, and being cast was, er, surprising, but it’s great.”
“Surprising?! You’re perfect to play him.” Aziraphale grinned.
The waiter set the wine glasses in front of them, and introduced them to the kawakawa sauvignon blanc, which he poured into their respective glasses. Aziraphale took a sip of her wine, closing her eyes and savouring it with a contented hum. When she opened her eyes with a smile, she caught Crowley staring at her, a look that seemed hungry glinting in her eyes. She set down her wine glass gently.
“So, what do you do? You know,” Aziraphale waved her hand aimlessly, “outside of work?”
Crowley raised an eyebrow, and it arched far above her sunglasses. “Not much. ‘Ve got plants.”
“Oh?”
“Big ol’ lot of ‘em. Garden ‘n greenhouse ‘n everything.” She took a long sip of her own wine, watching Aziraphale over her glasses.
Aziraphale felt her cheeks tinge pink as she thought of a witty comeback worthy of one of her romance novels. “I’d like to see them sometime.”
Crowley seemed to nearly choke on her wine, eyes widening distinctly enough that Aziraphale could see them. “Sure, angel.”
“Delightful!” Aziraphale beamed, feeling internally very proud of herself for flirting – or what she hoped was flirting.
They talked amicably for a while, until the waiter brought their food over and the conversation lulled for a moment. Aziraphale fidgeted as she watched Crowley scan over the platter of sushi they would share, unable to read the other woman’s expression. That didn’t last for long, because Crowley soon smiled at her and her worries dissipated, and they dug in.
They ate together – Crowley’s face was an adorable shade of pink, probably because of the wine – and Aziraphale got her to try a little bit of everything. Crowley did enjoy it, though she drank more wine than ate, really. Aziraphale couldn’t help but swoon at every small thing Crowley did, and she found herself hoping that the other woman liked her enough to at least be her friend.
By the end of the night, they were both more than slightly tipsy, but they had talked about so much that it felt like they’d known each other for much longer than they had. They decided on walking back because of all the wine, and they linked arms as Crowley walked her back to her shop.
They parted with a tight hug, and the second Aziraphale got into her shop, she began chastising herself for not kissing the beautiful woman. As she got ready for bed, she decided that she would wait for Crowley to make a move, since she wasn’t sure if the other woman actually liked her that much.