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They were still holding hands when the world flashed back into existence. Crowley staggered a bit, trying to get his bearings. Somehow, Aziraphale stood rock-solid beside him, as if they hadn’t just told God to her face that she ought to do better.
Crowley’s gaze darted in all directions, analyzing their surroundings, seeking threats. No one and nothing was coming for his angel. Not as long as even the tiniest particle of him existed.
Okay. We’re on a city street. Signs in English. Modern day-ish? Are we literally just back in London?
Wherever they were, it looked almost-but-not-quite like Whickber Street. Cute, quaint shops. A little cafe. Even a corner bookshop.
Oh, shit. A bookshop. He could not let Aziraphale notice that. He couldn’t afford distractions until he was absolutely sure they were safe.
Luckily—at least Crowley told himself it was luck and not an inability to even consider loosening his grip on his beloved—their entwined fingers made it easy for Crowley to pull Aziraphale into the nearest shop and away from the prying eyes of any… angels? Demons? Humans? He didn’t even know who was out there. The people on the street looked human, and he didn’t feel any supernatural presence, but he wasn’t sure he could fully trust his senses.
Aziraphale pried their hands apart and turned to face Crowley directly.
“Are you well?” the angel asked. “All present and accounted for?”
“Ng’yeah. Fine.”
Crowley walked a slow circle around Aziraphale, giving him a head-to-toe inspection. He looked his usual self: old clothes, soft belly, cute face, lushy rounded arse.
Focus, idiot! This is not the time!
“How ‘bout you? Are you okay? D’you know where we are?”
“Tickety-boo,” Aziraphale replied. “And it appears we are in a snowglobe emporium. How charming!” He walked to the window display and bent over to inspect the merchandise, giving Crowley an excellent view of his bottom.
Not the time. Not the time. Not the time.
“Angel, did you know this would happen? That we’d be okay, I mean?”
“Hmm? No, not for certain. I hoped, of course. And I do perform my best tricks under pressure.” Aziraphale picked up one of the snowglobes and peered intently into it.
Gah! How could he be so calm about everything? Crowley turned and took another look around the shop. They were alone except for the person at the checkout counter. Definitely a human. They smiled and waved.
“Let me know if you have any questions.”
Crowley gave them a toothy half-smile, half-grimace. They immediately turned away and pretended to be busy.
“Crowley?”
“Right here, angel.” He prowled back to the door. No one outside gave the shop more than a passing glance.
Okay. Sure. We just might be safe after all. Still gotta find out where here is, though.
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked again, a bit more insistently.
“Buy as many as you like, angel.” Maybe this was Aziraphale’s way of easing his own stress. Find some nice, pretty things to enjoy. Healthier than Crowley’s obsessive vigilance, probably.
“Crowley!”
His head snapped around at the angel’s sharp tone. Aziraphale’s mouth was set in a line that wasn’t grim, exactly. Serious, but not in a bad way. Intent. Crowley’s right eyebrow arched sharply as his curiosity spiked.
“I need you to come here and look at this.”
Right, then. When Aziraphale spoke in that tone, you ignored him at your own peril, and Crowley wasn’t stupid. He was at his partner’s side in an instant.
“What’s the problem?”
“Not a problem, technically. Look.” Aziraphale touched one of the snowglobes.
Crowley pushed his sunglasses down for a better look. The scene inside the globe had a grassy lawn and a bench, and on the bench were two figures, one blond, one red—
Crowley nearly jumped out of his skin. “What the fuck?!”
The tiny Crowley and Aziraphale inside the snowglobe waved at him.
“And this one.” Aziraphale indicated a second snowglobe. It, too, contained tiny versions of themselves, dressed in Regency attire and waltzing together. This pair seemed oblivious to their observers, too caught up in their dance.
Crowley made a choked noise and scanned the next globe on the shelf. A pair of birds, one black, one white, nuzzling together on a branch. And on it went. He found himself and Aziraphale as frogs and as clowns. He saw them fishing in a pond, flying an aeroplane, and having a picnic underneath an apple tree.
He picked up one globe that had a little house inside it. When he peered through a window, he found his doppelgangers in a bedroom, where they were eagerly—
Crowley slammed the snowglobe back down on the shelf, cheeks burning. That Crowley had certainly gotten a good look at his Aziraphale’s perfect arse. Lucky bastard.
“Oh, yes, that one.” Aziraphale giggled nervously. “I suppose I ought to have warned you? Perhaps we can talk about it later. Er, in private.”
“Yeah.” Crowley glanced over at the counter, where the shopkeeper continued to pretend to be busy. He edged toward Aziraphale until their shoulders were touching and he could whisper easily. “Why are there… infinite Us-es? I mean, if they’re in here, there’s prob’ly more out there too.”
“Yes. I imagine there are. We, um, seem to have overdone it with the, well, wishing to be together, wherever we ended up.”
“Ngk. Typical for us, really.”
“Indeed.” Aziraphale plucked a snowglobe from the bottom shelf. “I’m going to buy this one.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Aziraphale walked toward the counter, and Crowley watched him, as always. The angel was happy, walking with a bounce in his step and a slight swing of his hips. Good Someone, he was adorable. Crowley wanted to squeeze him and kiss him and… he was definitely not thinking about doing things like the Crowley and Aziraphale in the bedroom in the snow globe. Nope. No way.
The old-fashioned cash register on the counter dinged.
Crowley flinched. “Angel!”
He raced across the shop and grabbed Aziraphale by the arm. Too late. The shopkeeper was already tucking a stack of bills into the register drawer.
“Aziraphale!” Crowley hissed. “You… you can’t just buy a-a world with another us… them… whatever in it!”
Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s chest, and Crowley’s brain short-circuited long enough to entirely miss the angel’s reply.
“Wot?”
“I said I chose an empty one. It has an adorable little house with a garden. Seemed a lovely place to retire, if you’re amenable.”
“Thank you for your purchase,” said the shopkeeper. “Enjoy!”
Aziraphale picked up the snowglobe, beaming. “Oh, we will. Thank you so much. Shall we be off, my dear?”
Crowley never could resist that smile. He took Aziraphale’s hand because that was a thing they did now, and let himself be led out the door back onto Not-Whickber-Street. Aziraphale held out the snowglobe, an offering and an unspoken question.
Crowley didn’t hesitate. He placed his free hand atop the smooth glass sphere and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he was standing in front of the house, still hand-in-hand with Aziraphale. The garden was a little overgrown, and one of the steps leading up to the front door looked a bit dodgy, but it felt right. It looked right. It bloody smelled right.
“I think we’re home, angel.”
Aziraphale took a deep breath, and let it out again on a long, satisfied sigh. “Yes, I believe we are. Why don’t we pop inside and have a look around?”
“Love to.”
They bounded down the path, hopped over the dodgy step, and careened through the front door. Together they ran from room to room, laughing and never letting go of one another. Only when they started for the stairs did Crowley pause.
“Something wrong, dearest?” Aziraphale asked.
“Just had a thought. When we get to the bedroom, maybe we ought to close all the curtains?”
Aziraphale laughed and pulled Crowley into his arms. “A good idea, darling. Although I refuse to save all my kisses for behind closed doors.”
Crowley wound his arms around his partner’s neck. “Anything you want, my angel.”
Their lips met in a gentle kiss that slowly grew to passionate, then rapidly turned ravenous. Crowley wasn’t sure how he ended up on his back on the staircase with his hands finally roaming over that angelic arse he’d been coveting, but he really didn’t care. Nor did he care any longer who might be looking into their perfect bubble of a universe.
And hey, even if the other Crowleys and Aziraphales were nosy buggers, they also deserved their happily ever after. Maybe this would inspire them.
“So long as I’m the only Crowley who gets his hands on your bum,” he murmured.
Aziraphale hummed in delight and wiggled his tush. It was quite some time before Crowley remembered that anything else existed, anywhere.