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Crowley leans on one of the pillars in front of Nina’s coffee shop, watching as Aziraphale asked her about the monthly shopkeepers association meeting he was hosting and trying her best to not reveal his hidden agenda. Aziraphale, having gotten his answer, walks off to the next shop on the list. Crowley moves to follow her and continue watching, but is interrupted by a question from Nina.
“He’s never hosted a meeting, ever. Why the change of heart?”
“He’s unpredictable,” Crowley shrugs but thinks a second longer about his answer and replies again, “He’s discovered his civic obligations.” Nina smiles and laughs a bit at his answer.
“You’ve been together long?” she says putting down the cloth she’s holding.
“Who?” Crowley scrunches his face in confusion, clearly caught off guard by the question.
“You and your partner,” Nina clarifies.
“Oh, no, no, it’s not… it’s not like that,” Crowley stammers.
“It certainly looks like that from here,” says Nina, raising her eyebrows, “Oh so you’ve just recently hooked up.”
“No, we, we—”
“You got a husband? Or a boyfriend? Is the book seller your bit on the side?” Nina presses on, interrupting Crowley in his surely weak defense.
“He’s not my bit on the side. He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side,” Crowley scoffed. As if, his Angel would never, she’s only gotten comfortable lying in the past century or two. Besides, Crowley couldn’t imagine anyone being able to give Aziraphale only a fraction of their heart, they had a presence that demanded your full attention– their magnetic smile, soft eyes, kind voice. They deserve the best. “He’s just an angel, I know,” Crowley finishes, clearing her throat.
“If you say so,” Nina says crossing her arms, “But then again, other people’s love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own,” She returned to cleaning tables, seemingly done with her line of questioning. Crowley stands on the sidewalk for a moment, trying to process what Nina was suggesting. Aziraphale had been at their side for a long time, they were each other's only companion and confidant. They protected each other from Heaven and Hell respectively, no matter the personal cost. It was their unspoken Arrangement. She spins from his spot on the sidewalk, taking a few steps and deciding to go into the restaurant they just came from. She'd rather not consider the implications of this sober. The angel was gone, continuing down the street and Crowley needed a drink. Now.
Crowley sat on the patio, an open bottle of red wine on the table and a glass in his hand. He opted not to drink straight from the bottle and be classy during this crisis. She rested her head against the wall, wanting support for the amount of thoughts spinning in his head. He twirls the red rose at his table in his fingers. He had always viewed love as a silly human concept, something she’d seen in films. Love didn’t apply to them, to angels and demons. What they had was… different… they were on their own side, in between the black and white, existed in the shades of gray. Aziraphale didn't like acknowledging their Arrangement at first, still stuck on the fact that he was an angel and she was a demon. But as she embraced the freedom of the gray areas, he would always default to describing them as friends. She supposed if a label had to be put on their Arrangement, friends was simply the easiest word to attach without too much thinking involved. When you’ve known someone for over 6 millennia, things get…complicated. Hell, they had stopped Armageddon together. He’s not going to pretend he hasn’t thought about this before (except if you asked him), when you've known someone for this long you're bound to think about kissing them a few times. She just never really considered romance to be an option for them. He never wanted to put pressure on the angel, to go too fast for them. Besides the Bentley, Aziraphale was his whole world. Existence in between sides got lonely but they had each other. The angel saw the goodness in him no one else would find and always insisted, somewhere deep down, Crowley was nice. He would never admit to it, but she’s not sure what she would do without her.
Before the Beginning
Crowley lifted his wing over Aziraphale, shielding them from the incoming debris of the new nebula. They were both angels, she knew they would be fine, but she didn’t want Aziraphale to have to worry about anything at that moment. Crowley wanted him to take in the beauty of it, to recognize his hard work. It was gorgeous.
Garden of Eden
Aziraphale lifted his wing over Crowley, shielding them from the incoming rain of the first thunderstorm. Crowley shuffled in closer, she’d rather not be cold and wet. Even without the flaming sword Aziraphale exudes warmth, something about him was inviting. She held back a smile, not everyday you meet an angel who gives away her flaming sword.
The Flood, 3004 BC
She swore if the angel said “ineffable” again, she was going to find a way to fall again. It annoyed her to Hell and back, and yet…. Aziraphale’s optimism continually drew her back to them.
Land of Uz, 2500 BC
Looking out at the sea, Aziraphale nervously sat on a rock. Crowley strolled to the opposite side of the rock and approached the angel.
“Ah. Yes, I thought perhaps they might send you,” Aziraphale’s voice shook as he spoke, breathing heavily. “Well, I’m ready to go,” the angel stood up.
“Go where?” asked Crowley, raising his eyebrow.
“To Hell.” Crowley sat down on the rock.
“I’m not taking you to Hell, Angel.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I don’t think you’d like it,” Crowley shrugged.
“But you have too,” Crowley turned to Aziraphale with slight surprise. “I’m like you now. A demon,” the angel held back tears as Crowley laughed.
“Sorry, you think you're a demon? With your curly little…and your neat white…” Crowley imitated the angel as he spoke.
“I’m a fallen angel! I lied. To thwart the will of God,” their voice thick with emotion.
“Well, yeah you did but… I’m not going to tell anybody, are you?” The angel lightly shook her head, “No. Then nothing has to change does it?” Crowley looks back out over the sea. Aziraphale slowly sits back down on the rock, staring ahead.
“But what am I?”
“You’re just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.”
“That sounds, um…”
“Lonely?” The angel nods and looks towards Crowley for reassurance.
“Yeah,” the demon says quietly.
“But you said it wasn’t.”
“I'm a demon. I lied,” Crowley says, his voice unusually soft and sad. Maybe they could be lonely together.
Death of Christ, 33 AD
The angel had seemed a bit more open to talking to Crowley after they came to more of an understanding at their last meeting. It was nice to have someone to talk to, especially when that someone was Aziraphale.
Rome, 41 AD
“Salutaria,” Aziraphale says, raising her glass towards Crowley. He raised his glass to hers, clinking them together and taking a sip. This angel and their pretty face has got to stop showing up at the same places as him. It was getting distracting.
Kingdom of Wessex, 537 AD
Canceling each other out was all they seemed to do. Everywhere Crowley went Aziraphale seemed to pop up. Always balanced the scales and ensured neutral outcomes, usually not on purpose. Not that he minded much, it was always nice to see the angel.
Globe Theatre, 1601
Their “Arrangement”, as Crowley liked to call it, worked quite well. If they were going to cancel each other's work out anyways, then they might as well only do half the work. No one was going to check anyways. Quite nice the gray areas of life were. To her credit the angel seemed to be enjoying it too, as much as he denied it.
As for the success of Hamlet… well you look into Aziraphale’s pleading eyes and say no. Exactly, you can’t. So he might have done a quick miracle as a treat.
Paris, 1793
Crowley did take pleasure in saving Aziraphale. He knew she would be fine, but it truly was fun to see the look on their face every time. The angel always got so excited when he showed up and well if he happened to be in the area, why not. This time came with the added bonus of watching them eat crepes.
Edinburgh, 1827
“Laudanum, whoo-wee! Last time I do that!” Crowley yells as she stumbles in circles around the graveyard. “Where are you?” the demon asks, suddenly concerned as she loses track of Aziraphale in their dizziness.
“I’m here,” the angel grabs Crowley’s shoulders in an attempt to steady them. “I’m here,” he repeats as they wrap one arm around Crowley’s waist and interlock his other arm with her elbow. “That was very kind of you, Crowley. You saved that young woman,” he beams at the demon, who growls defensively at being accused of good.
“Not kind!” Crowley says, freeing herself from Azirphales grasp to face them and points a finger in his face. “Off my head on laudanum. Not responsible for my actions,” she gets in the angel’s face and looks at him over the rims of her glasses. Oh, his lips look soft, the thought pops into her head. Blame it on the laudanum.
“Will you get into trouble? Well, they’ll surely have noticed downstairs. You just did a very good deed,” the angel’s voice filled with a mix of worry and admiration as they continued walking.
“Trust me, if Hell noticed that little display, I’d already be–” Crowley clears their throat and slows down. “I’d already be–” Crowley stopped and suddenly felt herself begin plummeting into the Earth. Hell surely wasn’t happy with her for not allowing Elspeth to kill herself and tempting her towards good. Well fuck, she thought steeling herself for whatever punishment came upon them.
London, 1862
“I have lots of other people to fraternize with, angel,” Crowley spits.
“Of course you do,” Aziraphale says, voice thick with sarcasm.
“I don’t need you.”
“Well, and the feeling is mutual, obviously,” Aziraphale turns away, awkwardly throwing the note into the water, which subsequently burns up.
“Obviously,” Crowley says to himself, mimicking the angel. Aziraphale could be so stubborn sometimes, he worried too much. It was just insurance. Crowley knew what Hell would do if they found out about their Arrangement. After what happened because of their actions in Edinburgh, holy water would make its life a lot easier. He did need Aziraphale, they needed each other. The Arrangement was all they had. They would never discuss it obviously, but both knew it to be true.
London, 1941
“Little demonic miracle of my own,” said Crowley handing over the books. "Lift home?” He asked, already walking towards the Bentley and knowing Aziraphale would follow.
She would never pass up an opportunity to save Aziraphale, always gave him an excuse to see the angel and they didn’t have to do paper work. Being on consecrated ground was idiotic, even for Crowley, but he often did idiotic things for the angel. It made her smile. Like saving the books, the way Aziraphale beamed at Crowley was impossible to ignore and undeniably adorable, thank Satan for his glasses covering where his eyes were looking.
Crowley and Aziraphale sat next to each other at a table, back at the bookshop after the angel’s magic performance, each with a glass of wine in their hand as the candle light flickered across their faces. Crowley stared at the photograph of them in disbelief, appreciation for Aziraphale written all over his face. He hadn’t minded the idea of spending his last day drinking wine with the angel but Aziraphale had protected her (again). Maybe she could take them to the Ritz as a thank you, Aziraphale did love fine foods and Crowley did love watching them eat, they got so much enjoyment out of it.
The photo is cute too.
London, 1967
You go too fast for me Crowley. The angel's words echoed in his head, hours after she had left the Bentley. You go too fast for me Crowley. She knew they didn’t just mean her driving speed. Crowley sat against a wall on the floor of his flat, wine bottles surrounded him and he clutched one in his hand. He respected the angel’s feelings, always, but fuck if it didn’t hurt. It was always one day. They put the bottle to their lips and took a swig, finishing off the bottle. He couldn’t lose Aziraphale. That was a non-option, he had no one else. She wasn’t good enough for Heaven or Hell, he hoped he was at least good enough for Aziraphale. He would slow down. Back off. Let her take the lead in their dance and she would follow. You go too fast for me Crowley. She picked up another wine bottle, uncorking it with her teeth. At least she didn’t have to plan a heist now. She was going to need to sleep for a while after this.
Tadfield, 2 days before Armageddon
“I’ve kept this in tip-top condition for over 180 years now. I’ll never get this stain out,” the angel frowns as Crowley circles them, looking them up and down.
“You could miracle it away,” Crowley suggested.
“Hm…Yes, but well, I would always know the stain was there” Aziraphale complained as Crowley sarcastically pouted at them, “Underneath I mean,” he finished as he turned his stained shoulder towards Crowley with pleading eyes. Crowley rolled his eyes, this angel. They leaned forward slightly, lifted a finger and blew in the direction of the stain, blue powdered dissipated on the wind. “Oh thank you,” the angel beamed at her. All Aziraphale had to do was give Crowley that sad, pouty look and they would do anything for her, unfortunately the angel knew this very, very well.
So maybe Crowley could possibly see how Nina assumed they were a couple. She did want to talk to the angel but they had a certain dance when it came to communication between them. They would fight, spend time alone, one of them would apologize and eventually make up. It’s been this way since the beginning, they always seem to fall into this pattern and he didn’t want to disrupt it now just because he wanted to be something different than friends.
Crowley watched Aziraphale walk back down the street clearly coming back to find where she had disappeared too. He lifted her head and whistled at them to catch their attention. Aziraphale looked up from her clip board and turned around, noticing Crowley and looked slightly confused but smiled nonetheless, heading towards her. That smile would surely be the death of her. I am so fucked, Crowley thought as he chugged the wine left in his glass and moved to pour some more.