Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crowley was having trouble sitting still.

More than usual.

He kept getting up to rub his back against the bookshelves, hissing under his breath, and then returning to the settee, bouncing his foot in barely contained annoyance, before getting up again, as he had done all morning.

The angel barely looked up from his book as Crowley crossed to the back of the bookshop.

“aaaAARRrrrrggghhhh….” came the sound of a groan and the scrapping of metal against floor, as Aziraphale tried to guess which piece of furniture he was rubbing himself against this time.

Aziraphale let out a long suffering sigh as he put down his book. “Dearest, I think it’s time we talked to a professional who could help you.”

“Nothing in here has any edges,” Crowley whined as he came back to the settee. “Everything’s too soft. At least my throne and desk had edges. Helped when I needed a good scratch…”

“We can get your throne from storage,” Aziraphale offered. “I thought you said you didn’t want to bother bringing all that over when you moved in.”

“Naw, like the bookshop like it is,” the demon sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “We can wait to redecorate when we settle on a cottage.”

“Of course, my dear. But we can still make some adjustments here so you’re more comfortable?” Aziraphale asked. “The book said having rough surfaces like rocks and logs would help…”

Crowley glared at him and marched over to grab the book from his hand.

“Are you reading a bloody herpetology book?” He flipped through the pages, seeing bookmarks on various pages about snake health and habitat. Crowley turned the book to look at the cover, and noticed that the angel had miracled it to look like a Jane Austen novel so he could do his research conspicuously.

Crowley tossed the book to the side with a growl. “Angel, we’ve been over this! I’m a demon, one of the legion of the fallen, the original tempter of Eden, former representative of Hell Plenipotentiary. I am NOT a blimey PET who needs ROCK FEATURES in my VIVARIUM.”

He let out another long, frustrated growl, while reaching behind to try to rub at his back, before marching straight over to the antique metal stove to bend and rub himself against it.

Aziraphale removed his reading glasses and put them on the rolltop desk, and exhaled another long sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Dearest, I hate seeing you suffer like this. I wish you would listen to my suggestions. I’m sure we can find something that will help. Would you like if I scratched your back again?”

Crowley sat back against the stove, still writhing against it, considering, before shaking his head. “Naw, your nails are too perfectly manicured to do any real good.”

“Another bath, then? You said that helped earlier…” Aziraphale offered.

“It’s a bad shed, Angel. Just have to suffer through it,” Crowley said through gritted teeth.

Aziraphale sighed again. Living together definitely meant they got to see sides of each other they hadn’t seen before. He tried to imagine Crowley going through this on his own, and felt a pang of pity knowing how hard that must have been. He tried to will himself to be grateful that he was trusted enough to be witness to this.

At that moment, Crowley let out a high pitched wail of frustration, the sound of which somehow cut directly through all his ample store of angelic patience.

Well, he decided, living together also meant that they were a team. A group of the two of them, as Crowley had so adorably put it. Which meant that he had access to help now that he didn’t before.

If only the demon would accept it.

Aziraphale had started the week with complete empathy for Crowley, following his lead and suggestions, being so careful to listen and not offer solutions, like he had read in so many of his relationship books before moving in together.

He wasn’t sure, though, that any of his relationship books had specific advice for the itching, writhing, whining mass of suffering demon before him, and decided it was high time to take a different approach.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale tried again. “You said this shed was worse than normal, and I’m worried about you. I think it’s time we seek out a specialist for this.”

Crowley scoffed. “What specialist? A demonic specialist? No, thank you. Demonic healers aren’t exactly known for their bedside manner.”

“No, I can’t imagine they are,” Aziraphale agreed. “But I think we should at least consult a herpetologist. An appointment just miraculously opened with the specialist a few blocks from here. I can easily convince them to give you their professional opinion and immediately forget the conversation afterward.”

Crowley glared at him. “I do NOT need to go to the VET.”

“I understand your concerns with it. I really do,” Aziraphale tried, softer. “You do have extremely unique, very demonic biology, of course. But there has been a lot of advancements and research from the humans over the years that I think would help you if we sought it out, specifically for some of the traits that you share in common with the other creatures here on Earth. Please don’t get hung up on the profession or let your pride stop you from getting help.”

Crowley frowned deeply and crossed his arms as he spat out, “NO.”

“You do know best, of course,” Aziraphale said, as an inspired thought struck him. “Since you do know what’s best, and you aren’t open to any of my ideas, I’ll bet you can prove to me you don’t need to go to a specialist by sitting on that settee quietly for the next hour to show me how well you’re doing and how much you don’t need any help.”

Crowley stood up instantly. “Of course. Yeah. Not a problem.” He slicked his hair back, straightened his shirt, and sauntered directly to the settee to casually sprawl in it.

Aziraphale nodded, took deliberate note of the time on the grandfather clock, and picked up his book again from where Crowley had tossed it aside.

Crowley took a deep breath. He was fine. He could just imagine he was fine. It wasn’t a problem. He had a powerful imagination. He imagined he was fine when his car was on fire as he drove through the magical ring of infernal fire on the dread sigil of Odegra on the M25. He kept imagining he was fine all the way to Tadfield as his car burned all around him. That had definitely taken more than an hour. He had been through plenty of worse things and acted like it was fine every time. He would do it again to prove the angel wrong and avoid going to the vet. It wasn’t a problem. Not even a challenge, really.

It took all of five minutes before Crowley was writhing on the floor, rubbing his back against the rug, screeching, “Oh this is some BLOODY BLEEDING BARKING BILIOUS BACKBITING BULLSHIT.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said carefully, putting his book down again.

“GAH. I hate this, Angel. More than anything. I’d do anything to make this stop…” the demon sputtered out, without thinking.

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, standing. “Up you get.”

“NO!” The demon sat up, quickly realizing what he had just said and agreed to, backing up to the stairs on his hands and feet like a crab to inch away from Aziraphale.

“Crowley, stop being such a mumpsimus,” Aziraphale said as he walked toward him. “It’s just a quick visit, we’ll get some helpful advice, and you’ll feel better.”

“No. Nonononononono!” Crowley said as he backed against the spiral staircase, holding it tight in his hands.

“I’m afraid you leave me no choice, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he leaned over and manhandled the cantankerous demon over his shoulder.

Crowley kept a firm grip on the staircase as Aziraphale pulled him taut.

The demon hissed his displeasure. “Hisssss! Hissssss!” he sputtered. “Hissssssss! No, you’re not the boss of me!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Aziraphale said, snapping his fingers to oil the staircase rail which immediately loosened Crowley’s grip enough for him to pull him off.

That didn’t stop Crowley from grabbing at every other piece of furniture in reach, including a pillar, a bookshelf, and the doorframe itself on the way out, which got the same miracled oil treatment to pry him loose.

Crowley tried to snap to defend himself and teleport back into the bookshop, but his fingers were too slick from the oil to do it properly.

He continued to hiss at the ridiculousness of the situation. He considered wiping the oil off his hands on Aziraphale’s jacket, but even in his agitated state knew it would be a step too far, and that he’d have to miracle to stain off him for him again, anyway, so he refrained.

It wasn’t the first time Crowley was surprised, and more than a little, ah, excited, at the angel’s display of strength, who had lifted him from the bookshop floor and thrown him over his shoulder as easily as a sack of potatoes. Crowley decided that he must be weakened from the bad shed, and told himself that in a fair fight he could have put up more resistance.

Crowley wasn’t sure how how Aziraphale planned to get him to the vet, whether by the Bentley or bus or taxi or a miracle, and realized belatedly that Aziraphale intended to walk all the way there carrying Crowley over his shoulder like a damsel in distress as he turned the corner away from the bookshop.

He couldn’t put up much of a fight, in his current state.

But damsel in distress he could do.

“Hell’s bells, Aziraphale!” he shrieked as he kicked and struggled in the angel’s hold. “You’re NOT carrying me all the way to that twat-a-potamus of a vet! Put me down NOW!”

“Crowley, quit being so obstreperous, we’ll be there shortly,” Aziraphale hollered up to him.

“And quit being such a cockwomble, Angel!” Crowley retorted. “By Elizabeth's pissing corgis this is EMBARRASSING!”

“Crowley, I know you’re just agitating your scales, please do stop struggling,” Aziraphale said, holding him tighter as he strode down the pavement.

Crowley kept right on struggling. “This is absolutely the most fatuous feat of fucky-wucky I’ve ever been subjected to!”

The angel paused momentarily. “What was that last thing you said?”

“Nothing.” Crowley mumbled, realizing even he was reaching the end of his lexicon of words to express his annoyance at the situation.

“Quite. Now hold tight, my dear, we’re almost there,” Aziraphale said, holding him firmly and picking up his pace.

Even though Crowley was quickly running out of steam he kept wiggling and hissing anyway as they rounded another corner to the storefront with a large “Soho Veterinary Hospital” sign, and a second one underneath that said "Specializing in Exotic Pets."

The sight of it made Crowley hiss louder.

Aziraphale didn’t let him down until they were completely inside, which thankfully was free of witnesses.

“Now you listen to me, Crowley, please stop making a braying ass of yourself!” Aziraphale said, a bit tetchy. “It’s a quick visit and we’ll go home immediately after with some remedies. Understand? I don’t want to continue to keep fighting you on this.”

“Hissssss….. Yeah probably running low on your miracle allotment anyway, miracling away all those memories from everyone we passed just then.” Crowley said, sticking his forked tongue out.

“Who’s to say I did?” Aziraphale responded. “They all got your full performance, my dear, no memory wipe necessary.”

Crowley felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he looked around. “Wot?”

“Londoners have always been good at minding their own business,” Aziraphale answered. “If you didn’t want them to see you like that, then you shouldn’t have behaved that way, my dearest foul fiend.”

Crowley frowned and crossed his arms. He considered making a run for it. He could definitely escape if he really wanted to, no matter how surprisingly strong Aziraphale turned out to be. It must be from carrying those books around all day, he decided, as he spent a little too long admiring his angel’s muscular forearm, before blinking hard and going back to being cranky again. In the end, he decided it wasn’t worth the effort to leave after all the work it took to get here, so he just hissed at Aziraphale in response and stayed put.

Before long, the vet came out from the back room to greet them. “Hello, you must be Mr Fell? You’re in luck today, all of my other appointments cancelled, so I can give you my full attention.”

“Fortunate indeed,” Aziraphale said with a grin. “Now before we start I would like your consent on something. I would like you to examine a dear friend of mine with a, uh, condition very similar to a reptile, and give him all the respect and knowledge of your profession. And when we are finished I would like you to forget that we ever spoke.”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “Happy to extend patient confidentiality to anyone who comes through these doors. Can you fill out this form with any information you have?” She handed him the paper and then went into the back again.

Crowley growled at him. “Why are you bothering to get her consent on a memory wipe when you didn’t get my permission to bring me here in the first place? If you’re so concerned on consent maybe you shouldn’t have dragged me here kicking and screaming!”

Aziraphale looked at him steadfast. “I had better than consent. I had a wager. A wager you fully consented to.”

Crowley eyes went wide, realizing exactly how Aziraphale had phrased it when he asked him to sit still on the couch for an hour. An agreed upon wager was almost as binding as a written contract between occult beings.

Aziraphale nodded, and added, “I won that wager. And also heard your expressed, verbal, wish.”

Crowley’s eyes went even wider, realizing what he said to Aziraphale about doing anything to make it stop. Stating a wish before an ethereal being was as equally binding as a wager.

“You are a bastard, you know that,” Crowley hissed.

“So you’ve said.” Aziraphale gave him a smile in return that was entirely too fond.

The angel turned away and started filling out the form with his knowledge of Crowley’s medical history and symptoms, taking care to be thorough.

Crowley wondered if it wasn’t the pact of the wager and the wish that magically prevented him from stopping Aziraphale from hoisting him over his shoulder and dragging him out of the bookshop to the vet. Maybe if he hadn’t been foolish enough to agree, he easily could have fought back.

He decided that must have been the case for the sake of his own pride.

And he knew he never would have set himself up like that in his right mind. It was the type of move Crowley had pulled countless times before on other amateur demons and angels. It was the first time he could recall such a move being pulled successfully on himself.

He exhaled a long sigh and looked at what the angel was writing, and said, resigned, “Go ahead and add, ‘Not bloody thinking clearly’ to my list of symptoms, then, too.”

Aziraphale regarded him steadily, not sure if he was being sarcastic or not, and then added it to the list of symptoms.

“Now Crowley,” Aziraphale said as he finished the form. “I do hope you can give your respect to the herpetologist, no matter how little you want to be here. If you can behave, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Crowley blinked his eyes rapidly as he seethed with sarcasm, “Oh, does the little snakey-wakey get a treat if he’s good at the vet?”

“Something like that,” Aziraphale gave him another overly fond grin, that somehow piqued Crowley’s interest.

For the angel, a “treat” could mean anything from dinner out at a new restaurant to a new magic trick he wanted to show him. He just hoped it wasn’t a live rat, given his treatment today.

As he waited, the itching started to come back in force. Crowley closed his eyes tightly and took in a sharp breath. It was all he could do to stop himself from writhing again on the floor, wishing he could do anything to make it stop…

He opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale looking back at him, concerned, and realized with an exhale that’s exactly why the angel dragged him here.

Crowley shook his head in resignation, and decided to abide by the rules of the wager. He was a little curious to see if the human snake doctor actually knew anything that could help him with the itching. He decided to stop fighting it and go along with the examination, if only to satisfy his curiosity on the angel’s idea of a reward.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The vet came back and took the clipboard from Aziraphale, and read it over. “You can both follow me back to the exam room.”

Crowley started a low hiss that continued for the entire examination.

Chapter Text

She opened a door and guided them inside. “Hello, I’m Dr Ness. Tell me a little more about what brings you in today.”

Aziraphale took a breath. “This is Crowley. He’s been having a bad shed. Now it might seem unusual to examine a man instead of a reptile with these symptoms, but for the purposes of today’s appointment, it won’t seem unusual at all. Do you understand?” Aziraphale asked with a wave of his hand.

For someone who had worked with the public as many years as Dr Ness had, she was convinced she had seen it all. Even without the miracle, this would have done little to phase her.

She shrugged and said, “Sure. Crowley, tell me a little bit about what you’re feeling.”

Crowley rubbed the scales at the back of his neck self-consciously. “Severe itching. Lots of stuck shed patches. Driving me bloody mad.”

“Has this happened before?” Dr Ness asked.

Crowley scowled, and decided to try outrageous honesty. If Aziraphale was going to have the gall to drag him to the vet, then he was going to explain his symptoms in full.

“I’m a demon with a corporation that mostly presents as human,” he explained, as Aziraphale did a few more subtle hand waves behind him. “I've rarely had a physical shed. Usually this stays on my True Form and doesn't enter the corporeal realm.”

Dr Ness took a breath as her brain worked through that information. The simplest choice was to believe him, examine him, and give her recommendations. She was a herpetologist, after all, not a psychologist. If he wasn’t telling the truth, someone else could help him with that part.

“Alright,” she said flatly. “Why the change, then? Any new stressors?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look.

“Well, yes, actually,” Aziraphale said. “We just thwarted Armageddon. Again. That really was quite a lot of stress.”

“Gotcha,” Dr Ness said, with the same unaffected tone. “And any new changes in your environment?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged another look.

“Well, yeah…” Crowley said. “We recently moved in together…”

“Yes, those kinds of stress factors and environmental changes can trigger a bad shed,” Dr Ness explained. “And it’s been an extra cold winter, which doesn’t help. Are you getting plenty of hydration?”

Crowley smirked. “Plenty of Talisker.”

“Alcohol doesn’t help hydration, I’m afraid. Let me see…” she said as she reached forward to take his hand and examine it. She was confused a little by the oil on it, and decided that must be one of the remedies he had tried to help with the itching. She pinched the skin on the back of his hand, held it for a few moments, and noted how it stayed tented up after releasing. “It looks like you’re definitely dehydrated and that’s not good for your shed.”

Crowley frowned deeply at the first recommendation from the herpetologist being to stop bloody drinking alcohol and growled.

Dr Ness regarded him evenly and asked, “Any behavioral changes?”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a look, the recent tantrum still fresh in their minds.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said carefully. “He’s been a bit… tetchy.”

“That’s understandable, if you’re not feeling well,” Dr Ness said. “Take your jacket off and hop up on the exam table, Crowley.”

The demon rolled his eyes, but climbed up and handed his jacket to Aziraphale.

Dr Ness put on her stethoscope and held it up to his chest, right where she hoped his heart would be. “Ok, now take a few deep breaths for me.”

The demon stopped hissing long enough to comply.

She moved the diaphragm a few places on his chest to carefully listen to his breathing and heart. She opened a drawer, realizing the Doppler they usually used for reptiles wouldn't work in this case, and wondered if she had a blood pressure cuff large enough to put on his arm since the ones they usually stocked for their animal patients would definitely be too small. She pulled one out and was surprised to see one in the exact size she needed it to be. She blinked, and added it to the growing list of things she wasn’t going to think too hard about from today. She put the cuff on his upper arm, inflated it, and listened to the pulse on his artery as it deflated.

“Ok, heart and lungs sound good, but blood pressure is a little high,” she said, completely unsurprised, “which may be due to your overall agitation. I’d recommend keeping an eye on it, just in case. You can get a few more readings when you’re calmer at home. If it’s a concern you can always come in for another appointment.”

Aziraphale nodded smugly, as Crowley continued to scowl.

She put the stethoscope back around her neck and pulled out an otoscope to check his nasal and ear cavities, which all seemed normal enough.

“Open your mouth for me,” she asked, which paused his continuous hissing long enough for her to look inside. She pushed his forked tongue down with a depressor and looked further inside with a light.

“All looks good. Would you mind taking off your sunglasses so I can check your eyes?” she asked.

Crowley frowned. He glared at Aziraphale as he handed his sunglasses over for the angel to hold, and looked back at Dr Ness, deciding since he already confessed to being a demon he may as well give her the full show.

“Ok,” she said evenly, “now would you look up for me?”

She examined his eyes, and felt strangely more comfortable seeing them, like she was back on familiar ground. She shined a flashlight and took note of the dilation. While she couldn’t call them specifically normal, they reacted well to the light, though she noted one of them looked a little cloudy.

“Are you having any trouble with your eye caps?” she asked.

Crowley huffed. “Yeah. The right one came off, but the left one’s been stuck...”

“I can help with that, if you’re willing,” Dr Ness said.

The demon considered it. As annoyed as he was about being here, he had to admit the doctor knew her stuff. He’d been having trouble seeing out of that eye all week since the shed started.

And he did note that she hadn’t even flinched once when she saw his eyes. Miracle or not, that was a rare reaction from a human.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, quietly, as she dabbed a Q-tip in water.

“Just hold still for me, and try not to blink,” she said, and carefully put the Q-tip in his eye to extract the eye cap. She pulled it out quickly and gently, like she’d done for so many snakes having a bad shed over the years. “How’s that?”

Crowley rubbed his eye, and looked around. “Ok. Yeah that’s better.”

He avoided making eye contact with Aziraphale, who was practically radiating with a self-satisfied aura of “I-told-you-so,” that just made Crowley cranky all over again.

“Glad to hear,” she said. “Now, Crowley, I need to get a better look at your shed. You only need to remove enough clothing to show where the shed is bad and what you’re comfortable showing me.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide. “Um. Don’t you have a paper gown or something I can change into?”

Dr Ness raised an eyebrow. “This is a veterinary office. So… no? We don’t really need those here. If it helps, you can change in the bathroom. No one else is here today. I can ask Aziraphale to step out if you want?”

“He can stay,” Crowley growled. “Fine. Sure. Yeah. Whatever. I’ll go change, then.”

Crowley hissed as he marched off to the bathroom. From behind the closed door they heard the muffled sound of the hiss continue the entire time he removed his clothes. He opened the door, wearing nothing but his undercrackers, and hissed all the way back.

Both the vet and Aziraphale were smart enough not to comment on his Monday tightie whities as he climbed up on the cold examination table and continued hissing.

For the most part, Dr Ness got along better with animals than humans. And under normal circumstances, she didn’t have the luxury of being able to communicate with her patients about the examination. But she could see this patient’s obvious discomfort, so she made sure to ask again, “Is this alright?” before continuing the check-up.

“Yeah. The shed’s bad all over. Just take a look and get it over with.” He gestured dramatically with his hand for her to continue, still staring forward in embarrassment and disdain.

“Ok,” she said, and checked the skin on his chest and arms, palpating different parts to feel for lumps or abnormalities. She moved around to his back and saw the worst of the shed that had been bothering him.

“Yeah, I can see why this is causing you trouble,” she said, touching some of the patches carefully, and noting how rough it felt, like sandpaper. “Sheds are supposed to come off in one piece, not peel in little bits like this. Definitely need to increase your hydration and humidity.”

“So, Dr Ness?” Aziraphale asked. “What’s your diagnosis?”

She shrugged. “He seems healthy enough. Granted, never seen a man with this issue-”

“Not a man,” Crowley grumbled.

“I’d say keep him in a humidity box for a week and it’ll be fine.”

Aziraphale nodded, as Crowley continued to hiss.

“And we can try a towel treatment,” Dr Ness said, and pulled out a towel from the cabinet. She rinsed it in warm water, and wrapped it around Crowley’s shoulders. “The water will loosen the shed, and the towel can help it come off. Go ahead and lie down. I’ll get you a few more towels and turn on the heat lamp for you. We’ll let you sit under that for about twenty minutes and see if that helps. I’ll turn down the lights and we can leave you to relax.”

She got the towels, and noticed as his companion lifted his head and put a pillow under it. Where he got the pillow, she wasn’t sure, but shrugged and gave him a few more towels and stepped out of the room.

She walked with Aziraphale back to the front desk and handed him a piece of paper. “We give this to all new patients. You both can read through it and see which parts apply to him on snake care. He definitely needs more humidity. And I’d recommend upping his electrolytes and making sure he’s getting enough calcium and UVA and UVB rays for the nutrients.”

Aziraphale looked over the paper and nodded. “I’m sure that can be arranged. You’ve been ever so helpful, Dr Ness.”

She grinned. “Glad we could help. Fairly straight-forward appointment. New patient fee and checkup rates are listed here, when you’re ready to settle the bill.”

He unfolded a few notes, and put them on the counter. “Please do keep the change.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s a lot higher than the rate for the appointment,” she said, looking it over.

“I understand,” Aziraphale said, “But I know this is a small clinic and you’ve missed a lot of appointments today. I do know this was an extenuating circumstance, and would like to show my appreciation. And I hope you have a pleasant rest of your afternoon off.”

He was about to miracle her memory, but noticed with some surprise after peering inside her thoughts that Dr Ness seemed remarkably unphased by today’s events. Crowley had long said that people who worked with the public were miracle-proof, since they had seen everything, and usually had bigger things to worry about in their own lives than the occasional ethereal phenomenon. He decided it wouldn’t be necessary to alter her thoughts for her to continue with her own life as normal, nor have any impact on theirs, so he let it be.

Besides, it could be useful to have the connection if it was ever needed in the future.

Dr Ness blinked. “Well, it’s appreciated, and helps clinics like ours keep running. Hopefully his shed gets better. And try not to agitate him too much. He’s definitely under a lot of stress.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and said, “I shall certainly try my best. Might I borrow your phone?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “I’ll go back and check on him.”

She knocked, and opened the door. Crowley opened an eye to look at her.

“How are you feeling now?” she asked and turned up the light.

“Better,” he admitted, wrapped tightly in his towel cocoon.

He definitely seemed more relaxed than he had for the whole examination. “Well, let’s take another look at that shed and see how it looks.”

He sat up as she gently peeled back the towel. The patches had softened, and some had fallen, but a lot of rough patches remained.

“Try not to scratch or peel any of these or it will definitely get worse. You can do this towel treatment a few times a day until it’s completely gone. Make sure to drink more water and increase your humidity, and you should be doing better in about a week. I gave a list of recommendations to your partner, but feel free to call if you have questions or need to come back in, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, before looking down and mumbling, “…thanks.”

“Just doing my job. Glad it helped,” she said with a grin. “You can change and meet him up front.”

He got up and sauntered to the bathroom for his clothes. As she cleaned the room for the next patient, she noticed the hissing had stopped, which was a definite improvement.

Dr Ness then poured herself a glass of water, knowing the irony of always pushing hydration on everyone else, humans and animals alike, when she rarely took her own advice. She grabbed her phone and saw a few dozen missed messages from her teenager, begging to go to a concert that weekend with her friends and wanting to borrow the car. She sighed and took a seat, and gave her full attention to trying to navigate that conversational minefield, while also deciding how she was going to spend the rest of her day. She finally settled on a short walk in the park to calm down, a bottle of wine picked up on the way home, with a few rapid fire texts to her wife Nunya to ask for advice on how to respond to their daughter.

Within ten minutes, the events of her afternoon were very neatly put away to the back of her mind, just as Aziraphale had predicted.

Crowley finished changing and slicked back his hair, looking less frazzled than he had coming in. He walked into the lobby and sighed dramatically at the angel, “Well, I guess I had better get this over with now.”

Aziraphale finished his call and hung up. “Get what over with, my dear?”

The demon pointed up with each finger and sang softly, “You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right,” finishing with a spin and a small bow.

Aziraphale did his best not to gloat, following Dr Ness’ advice not to agitate him further, and instead asked, “Does that mean you are feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Crowley admitted with an eye roll. “It does. That helped.”

“I’m so glad to hear it, dearest. And apologies also, for forcing the issue in bringing you here. To make up for it, I did want to ask if you felt up for an excursion?”

Crowley shrugged. “I can walk back, if that’s what you’re asking. Should be fine for at least the next few hours, and then can try that towel thing again, or a humidifier. No need to drag me back to the bookshop and throw me in a humidity box.”

“Well, I think I found something better, if you’re amenable, Crowley,” the angel said. “I just booked us a flight to a private hammam and spa in Malta. I’ve had my eye on it for a while. We haven’t been to Malta since the Roman era, and thought it would be a wonderful place to take a winter holiday. Somewhere warmer and more humid than here.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up as he pursed his lips together.

“I thought it would be better than the bookshop for your recovery,” Aziraphale continued. “And when you’re feeling better, we can stay even longer to enjoy it properly. How’s that?”

“Ngk,” Crowley finally managed. “Ok, yeah, that sounds better than a humidity box. When’s the flight?”

“Conveniently, as soon as we arrive at the airport,” Aziraphale grinned. “Which probably won’t be long, if we go by the Bentley.”

“Temptation accomplished,” Crowley said with a smirk. “Anything you need from the bookshop before we go? A few books for the road?”

“Not necessary, my dear,” Aziraphale said, taking Crowley’s hand and whispering in his ear, “because I intend to give you my full attention on this trip…”

Crowley responded to that by hitching Aziraphale over his shoulder, savoring all the small scoffs of delighted surprise that elicited from the angel, and carrying him all the way back to the Bentley.

Epilogue

In the end, they stayed a few months in Malta. Crowley felt better after a week of Turkish baths and long soaks and even longer stays in the saunas and steam rooms, enjoying the heat and humidity and towel wraps, with his angel doting on him every step of the way, until the shed was gone completely.

All the stress from the Nah-pacalypse and moving in together dissipated over weeks of picnics at the beach, stargazing and cuddles on their villa at night, watching sunsets while drinking wine and enjoying pastizzis and date pastries and good conversation into the late evenings on restaurant patios overlooking the sea.

Over their warm and sunny winter holiday, Aziraphale worked hard to be so thorough in his care and attention to ensure Crowley would never throw a hissy fit like that again.

(The trouble was, he was so thorough in his care and attention that Crowley was already looking forward to his next one.)