Chapter Text
The first thing Aziraphale registered in the dark was the delightful smell of roasting meat, rich and smoky, and the promising sounds of a real party, people talking, laughing, shouting, music wafting in the air. It was one of Aziraphale’s favorite things. Humans enjoying themselves, enjoying life. It was what made Crowley's and his stand against the apocalypse worth it. It reminded him that life’s greatest gift was simply enjoying the present.
After a quick stumble around, he found himself a little door handle, turned it, and the darkness was cut through with a soft warm light. Candles and firelight flickering on pale Roman columns. Ah, so he was sometime in the past?
Odd.
But not utterly impossible.
The last thing he remembered was sitting in his bookstore, waiting for Crowley and his surprise. Was this…his surprise?
Aziraphale wasn’t sure. Of course Crowley loved to do over the top, dramatic, romantic gestures. But this?
The sounds of the party grew louder as Aziraphale got closer, taking careful steps forward. He was in Ancient Rome, he could tell that for certain. The people mingling and walking about were dressed in fine togas, drinking dark wine, and the intoxicating scent of honey cakes with figs made Aziraphale’s stomach rumble.
“Ah- Ziraphale, made it to the party, have you?”
Aziraphale’s head snapped to the side. It was Crowley. A bit tipsy, wearing an all black tunic and twisting green leaves woven in his long, fiery hair. His eyes weren’t hidden. Instead, that familiar, friendly look in them made Aziraphale immediately relax.
“Crowley, you could have told me you had something rather big planned for tonight, and really, I do appreciate all of this, it’s so considerate but isn’t it a bit much-”
“It’s never too much, we’re having a good time! But you didn’t tell me you’d be around-”
“Well I would have, if you had given some kind of hint about your plans…”
Crowley’s excited expression turned softer, and his hand reached forward, out to touch Aziraphale’s arm, but dropped it right before, “It’s not a big deal, angel, it’s no problem, I’m just happy you’re here, is all. Here let’s go find some of those honey cakes, I know ou adore them.”
The confused buzzing sensation in Aziraphale’s chest calmed. Crowley probably was more nervous than anything. He reached down, taking Crowley’s hand in his own, “That sounds wonderful my dear, thank you. You really didn’t have to go through all of this trouble.”
Much to Aziraphale’s amused affection, Crowley blushed. Blushed. He really did love this demon, his partner, with his whole soul.
“Now show me where those cakes are. Well, everything actually. It’s been too long since I’ve had a real Roman feast…”
Crowley’s embarrassment quickly faded away, as he led Aziraphale around the party scene, talking excitedly. The warm air of the night made Aziraphale feel safe, comfortable. He always was when he was by the side of his beloved.
______
“Where are my papers? I needed those divine miracle approval forms done yesterday!”
“You think you have it bad? I haven’t had a chance to even look at my files- I have no virtues at all to help me sort through everything…”
“How am I supposed to get anything done?!”
Heaven was in disarray.
The ever white, never ending halls and rooms of the most blessed, and holy of places, usually brimming full of peaceful angelic hosts, seemed to be the opposite. Angels fluttered here and there, the energy rushed, frantic. But over time, it seemed like less and less.
Few high-ranking angels attempted to keep things running, taking on more and more tasks.
But the work was continuous. The Heavenly Mother’s most important, vital work needed to get done.
No matter what.
“What is even happening?”
“I couldn’t tell you…”
“Do you think downstairs is having problems too?”
“I have no earthly clue.”
______
“WHERE THE HEAVEN ARE MY PAPERS?!”
“How am I supposed to know that useless Groggi hasn’t come back yet-”
“Nobody’s back from the field how am I supposed to-”
“Get it done!”
Hell was in no better shape.
______
“This is odd,” Anathema said. The dry, yellow-aged pages of the book scratched against her fingertips. Ink black drawings, sketches, and scrawling handwriting almost made her go cross eyed.
Delicate winged angels. Gray against the paper.
“What are you bloody going on about…” Shadwell muttered, tossing the fifth useless book over his shoulder with a loud thud. The book hit Newton as he came back in with a new stack of books. Shadwell ignored the slightly irritated look Anathema shot him as she helped Newton back up.
“That book is over a hundred years old, can you be more careful?” Anathema said as she and Newton picked up the books that fell.
“What’d you find?” Shadwell again ignored her, shuffling closer, “That looks useless! I know we’re looking for an angel, but you aren’t going to find him in a book-”
“We are going to find an angel…just maybe, not the one Crowley wants us to find,” Anethema reached over, picking up Shadwell’s vintage phone, pulling at the cord and dialing a number.
Shadwell looked closer, studying the picture, “It doesn’t look like any angel I know…”
The phone rang for a minute before it clicked, going through.
“We found something.”