Chapter Text
Aziraphale had not heard a word from Heaven.
Not that he was waiting for it. It was just a tad odd that he didn’t have a group of angels hunting him down. Or Metatron himself for that matter. Days had blended together in peaceful bliss and he had no plans of disrupting that.
The former Archangels were finding themselves more comfortable on Earth, even visiting Aziraphale sparingly with a few questions here and there. Muriel had taken on the assistant job and moved in, but claimed they were already planning to save for a place of their own.
“I think independence will be nice,” they had said to Aziraphale over tea, “I’ve spent eternity surrounded by angels. A place of my own sounds like Heaven.” And then they laughed at the irony of that. Aziraphale made a mental note to pay them enough to afford London rent so they could stay nearby. He spent most of his days showing them new books and over-explaining plots that he found interesting - it was part of the assistant's job description after all. And as far as he knew, Muriel ate it up. They had come up with the idea for a book club all by themselves and Aziraphale wondered why he hadn’t thought of that sooner. He had extended invitations to Maggie and Nina, even to the former Archangels. It may do them some good to join a club and get social interaction. While he had offered it to Crowley, the Demon had politely turned the idea down.
“I can barely read the books. Discussing them sounds like a bore. No offense, Angel.” Aziraphale didn’t take offense, but he did give Crowley a pointed look. As of late, the Demon had been dropping hints of traveling somewhere - just the two of them. He was already complaining about how cramped the bookshop had become with Muriel’s stay. Aziraphale chose not to point out that it could have also been the large number of plants Crowley brought with him. He figured that Crowley had more of a minimalist style based on the apartment he used to live in. Perhaps Aziraphale’s decorating was a bit too much. But there wasn’t a good way to create a minimalist bookstore. Not without taking all of the character out of it, that is.
“South Downs,” Crowley commented one day, completely unprompted. Aziraphale looked up from his book. Crowley was slumped on the couch, a book in his hand as well. It was a recent travel book that he had picked up from a small shop the other day.
“Sorry?” Aziraphale asked.
“For traveling. Have you been?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure,” Aziraphale said, folding his book closed. He had a feeling this would be a discussion, “Isn’t that a bit too….boring, for your taste? Wouldn’t you rather go to Paris or Spain?”
“I’m getting too old for all that excitement, Angel,” Crowley said, prompting a snicker from Aziraphale, “Plus we live in a big city. People who live in big cities don’t travel to other big cities for rest and relaxation.” Aziraphale wasn’t sure how true that was but he didn’t argue.
“Wherever you’d like to go, dear,” Aziraphale said. And that was all the permission Crowley needed. He took Aziraphale’s word and booked the hotel, the restaurants, the sights, and even took the liberty to pack their bags. It wasn’t until Aziraphale was looking for his second bowtie that he discovered any of this.
“Have you seen the blue tartan tie?” He called to Crowley from the top story of the bookstore.
“Packed it,” Crowley said. Aziraphale gave him a confused look. He decided to close their distance and descend the stairs to continue their conversation. Crowley was lounging on the sofa as usual, unbothered by his own response.
“Packed it?” Aziraphale asked.
“Yes, Angel. In the Bentley,” Crowley said, “Booked a week in South Downs. Muriel knows the drill already and I’ve taken the liberty of packing for you already, since I know you hate packing.” Whatever questions Aziraphale had were swiftly answered in that response. He must have been too predictable nowadays.
“When do we leave?” Aziraphale asked after a moment.
“Whenever you’d like,” Crowley smiled at him. He began to rack his brain for his plans of the day and the following week. When he came up empty-handed, he smiled back.
“Now?” That was all Crowley needed. He sprung from the couch and took the Angel’s hand, leading him to the door.
“Leaving, Muriel!” He called out. Aziraphale’s feet tried to follow Crowley’s quick movements, stumbling as they made it to the door. The Demon was much more eager for this than he had originally thought. That alone got Aziraphale excited as well.
“Have fun!” Muriel called back from somewhere in the bookstore. And with that, the two were out the doors and into the London street. Crowley had taken the liberty of parking the Bentley directly out front, as if he had predicted Aziraphale’s earlier response. He was insistent on opening the door for the Angel and Aziraphale put up no fight. Who was he to turn down a gentleman’s offers? He took his seat in the Bentley and took quick note of something different. The dashboard, while usually fully black, was lined with yellow accents. Crowley sat down in the driver's seat and looked to Aziraphale. His eyes followed the others and he visibly grew nervous.
“Couldn’t change it back,” he muttered. But Aziraphale could tell he was lying, they both knew that. He refrained from teasing him about it, however. For now.
The drive out of London was stressful. Aziraphale chose to keep his eyes shut for a majority of it. But once they reached the outskirts and city began to change into countryside, Aziraphale began to relax a bit more. Crowley still drove erratically but at least there was less traffic out here. The clouds began to shroud the sun, creating a gloomy mood over the rolling hills. It didn’t take too long for the rain to begin. It was soft at least, like a gentle cleansing wash.
“I never thanked you,” Aziraphale said quietly. They had been talking on and off for a lot of the drive but the rain had brought on a spell of silence between them that Aziraphale decided to break.
“What do you mean?” Crowley asked.
“For saving me during that storm. I had scorned you yet you still chose to help me without knowing what I was there for,” Aziraphale said.
“I’ll always save you, Angel,” Crowley said in a nonchalant tone. While Aziraphale knew he meant it, he wanted Crowley to understand how serious he was about the sentiment.
“What if I was there to begin another Armageddon, to end the world? Even then?” Crowley stayed quiet, dark shades fixated on the road ahead of them that was shrouded in rain. Finally, he spoke.
“Aziraphale,” he began, “You are the reason I grew to love this world - Earth. When I…fell, I was determined to hate it as much as I hated God in that moment. I hated the people, the animals, the plants, the ocean. And I was determined to hate you as well.” Aziraphale kept his eyes on him, heart pounding. Crowley had never been so open like this. His words were spoken in a soft admittance but it didn’t take away from the seriousness of them.
“But when you gave that sword of yours away, I saw a love for Earth that I didn’t think possible. You carried it with every action and expression. And believe me, I tried so hard to ignore it. But that kind of stuff is contagious. So if you can make a demon like me fall in love with the Earth, you can make anyone. I knew if it was up to you, there would be no harm coming to this world.” Aziraphale was a flustered mess by the end of that. He wasn’t used to such a genuine dissection of his character in such a lovely way.
“You’re too kind,” Aziraphale said, finding it hard to come up with any other words.
“Plus you’re too soft to just end the world,” Crowley added.
“Very funny.”
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Aziraphale always forgot how beautiful the countryside was. It was easy to stay cooped up in his bookstore in central London with Crowley and just forget about the rest of it. He had the option of viewing the Earth while he was in Heaven to make sure things were ‘all good’, but it hurt too much to do that. He would usually outsource the task to someone else. It’s much more enjoyable to be on the Earth than looking down to it anyways.
The journey was supposed to take nearly 3 hours but Crowley did it in half that time, which was no surprise to Aziraphale. He pulled the Bentley into a dirt path that curved near the front of a quaint home. It looked a little run-down but Aziraphale could see the charms from its past in the detailed eaves and well-built fence.
“What’s this?” Aziraphale asked. He hadn’t bothered to inquire about their lodgings earlier.
“Uh - little rental. Used an app, something people do these days,” Crowley said, not entirely confident with his own words. Aziraphale eyed the house. It didn’t look as well maintained as a rental should. But maybe the inside was easier on the eye. Crowley opened the door and he exited the car, stretching his limbs from the long trip. The two didn’t bother with the bags yet, Crowley seemed eager to take a look at the house. Aziraphale trailed behind him with interest as he took in the lovely scenery that surrounded them. It was heavily wooded but still held a soft, natural light that peaked out from the clouds. The weather was taking a turn for the better, at least.
Crowley unlatched the gate fence and stepped aside, allowing Aziraphale to step through and take the lead. The front yard was laid with a stone path. Weeds had grown up to obscure the individual stones but Aziraphale took note that they seemed to be retreating back into the ground with every step he took. Maybe he was imagining things, however. When they arrived at the door, Crowley fished a single key out of his pocket and turned the lock, opening the door for Aziraphale again.
The place was….dusty. But it had a lot of potential. If it wasn’t for the fact they were supposed to be renting this for a weekend trip instead of fixing it up. The door opened up into a large living space that had a fireplace and huge, arched windows. It was sparsely furnished and what was there was covered in white sheets.
“What do you think?” Crowley asked. If Aziraphale didn’t know any better, he would say the Demon almost sounded nervous.
“It’s pretty,” Aziraphale said, “But dirty for a rental. Do they not clean it beforehand?” Crowley walked past him and flicked his hand in the air. With the simple gesture, the dust and dirt were all gone, the floors polished, and the windows shining.
“I lied,” he admitted bluntly, “It’s not a rental. That was a bad lie.” Aziraphale stared at him, cocking his head to the side in confusion.
“What is this then?”
“I bought it,” he said, “For us. Had a little money saved up over the years and just felt a tad spontaneous.” Aziraphale felt a distinct fondness take over his body. He moved forward, taking Crowley’s hand in his own.
“I love it, dear,” he brought the hand to his mouth, placing a small kiss on Crowley’s knuckles before adding, “I love you.” Crowley was beaming, smiling a toothy grin from ear to ear. He slipped his hand from Aziraphale’s and cupped his cheek, bringing the Angel into a kiss. The world always stood still when they kissed, no matter how many times they did.
“We can fix it up with a few miracles here and there, make it our own,” Crowley said when he pulled away, “And it can be our little getaway spot. Central London has too many angels these days for my liking.” Aziraphale hung his arms around Crowley’s shoulders, giving him an unimpressed look. But he couldn’t help the smile on his face. Crowley’s love language was a strange one to get used to but Aziraphale had determined long ago it could all be tied back to acts of service. And this was a huge one.
The two spent the rest of their evening tidying up the place by hand and bringing in some of their luggage. The living room still had a dazzling couch under a white sheet that was in a good shape and a decorative rug as well. The space would need a lot more but that would be an easy task for the both of them. Between collecting books and collecting plants, they would have the space filled up in no time.
It fell dark in the living room as the sun set. With no curtains, the two had a view of nature outside from the couch. It was mostly just hills but Aziraphale could see the ocean peaking out between them. They were both lounging and sipping on a wine Crowley had packed for the pair. As usual, Aziraphale was reading by the light of the floor lamp he had miracled next to the couch. It was no surprise when he felt the pressure of a snake slithering up his leg and onto his torso. Crowley pulled this move more often lately. He would wiggle his way in between Aziraphale and his book and then turn back into a Demon, just so he could get the attention he believed he was owed. He rested his now very-human-head in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, making himself comfortable on the Angel.
“Hello,” Aziraphale greeted, trying his best to keep his eyes on the book, “Tired?”
“Drunk,” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale hummed, holding back his laughter.
“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow, dear?” Crowley thought on it for a second, his body stilling against Aziraphale’s.
“Picnic?” He said.
“Sounds delightful.” Aziraphale continued reading as Crowley stayed there. Eventually, he nodded off and began softly snoring against the Angel, his hands keeping a lax hold of his shirt. It wasn’t too long before Aziraphale felt himself growing drowsy as well. Usually he wasn’t one for sleeping. But a combination of the wine and Crowley’s weight was enough to lull him into slumber.
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It was noon when they woke up from their awkward spots on the couch. Aziraphale had accidentally let the book fall onto Crowley’s face at some point during the night which caused him to startle quite a bit when he opened his eyes and only saw text.
The pair were slow to start as well. But eventually both found the proper attire for a picnic and Aziraphale packed them up for it. Crowley never deviated from his dark clothing, but he had put on a more casual shirt and pants. Aziraphale, however, kept his collared shirt and vest but ditched the overcoat, opting to roll his sleeves up as well. The two loaded up into the Bentely and Crowley began to drive down the long and narrow path that led up to the cottage. He had claimed to know a good picnicking spot that didn’t require too much hiking and Aziraphale put his trust in the Demon.
Which may have been a mistake
While it was a good picnicking spot, it did require more hiking that Aziraphale would have liked. He was a sweaty mess by the end of it and giving Crowley a proper scowl. The Demon only smiled, which was enough for Aziraphale to forgive his misdoings.
“It’s worth the view, yeah?” Crowley said. Aziraphale walked up and stood beside him, looking out over rolling green hills that all sloped into the sea. It was gorgeous. The blue sky was hard to tell apart from the even bluer ocean. He took Crowley’s hand for a moment, squeezing it gently before setting the picnic basket down. Crowley took the blanket from underneath his arm and unfurled it. It was a plush quilt they had found in the closet of one of the rooms while they were tidying it up. The softness made for a perfect blanket to sit on. They chose the shade of a tree as their spot, one of the few trees that were around. Crowley was quick to take off his shoes and lounge. He stretched his long limbs like a cat, even adding in a yawn before he folded his hands behind his head. If Aziraphale allowed it, he was sure the Demon would take a nap right then and there.
Instead, Aziraphale poured two glasses of chardonnay. He had to bait Crowley into taking it, pressing it against his cheek before the demon got the hint. But he was happy to oblige in the drink. There were a variety of cheeses and meats in the basket waiting for them as well but Aziraphale resisted. He decided instead to just indulge in the chardonnay to solve how parched the hike had left him.
In the silence, Aziraphale had one prevalent thought; this is what they had fought for. Armageddon would have set the curves of this landscape on fire in a heartbeat. It would have been a battleground that no human would live to see. All the unique wonders the world had to offer would have been leveled and destroyed and every individual human, all their stories and all their ancestors, would be nothing but an obstacle in a war. But they had stopped all of that and now they could reap the benefits of it peacefully for all of eternity. Together.
“I can feel the positivity radiating off of you, Angel,” Crowley said, his tone uncommitted to sounding annoyed, “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s good chardonnay,” Aziraphale said. Crowley hummed, sitting up finally.
“That’s on your tongue. I’m asking what’s on your mind.” Aziraphale took a sip of the chardonnay, basking in the mini suspense he was leaving Crowley in. Finally, he spoke.
“Just proud of us is all,” he said. Crowley didn’t press. He knew what Aziraphale meant by it. The smile he gave was quick but genuine. Aziraphale felt his hands sneak their way into his own, fingers intertwining as Crowley tried to play it off with a sip of his own chardonnay. He watched as Crowley’s eyes caught something of interest. The small smile that was still on his lips faltered as he dropped the glass from his lips. Aziraphale followed his gaze to a figure in the distance. A woman in a sunhat and flowing dress. The sight shouldn’t have made Aziraphale feel ill but there was something uneasy about seeing another person out here. It disrupted the calm isolation of nature. But there was something more to the woman.
“Who is that?” Aziraphale asked quietly. Crowley didn’t respond, his hand only tightening around Aziraphale’s. The Angel swallowed hard. He knew the answer to his question. Fear resigned itself and he was purposeful in replacing it with anger. In a lower voice, he spoke again, “Let me deal with this.” When he went to stand, Crowley kept his grip firm and tethered Aziraphale to him. He looked back and found that the Demon was no longer looking at the woman but instead to Aziraphale. The expression on his face shattered his heart. Crowley looked terrified, yellow eyes wide and face scrunched into pure fear.
“I’m coming back,” Aziraphale assured, his voice shaking. He took a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully, “I won’t leave. Not again.” It was enough for Crowley to loosen his grip. He watched the Demon’s expression harden as he looked back to the woman.
“I know,” Crowley said. Aziraphale stood, brushing his pants off and slipping his shoes back on. His legs trembled a bit as he walked down the hill. But he soon found his own stride growing steadier by the minute. The woman had started Her journey as well and it became apparent that they would meet at the bottom of the valley if they both continued at their pace. As She grew closer, Aziraphale could make out more of Her features. She was dark-skinned and had long, curly hair tucked into Her hat that was tied under Her chin with a ribbon. It was an appearance that was almost too stunning to look at - one he knew well.
Aziraphale planted his feet and kept his hands clasped in front of him. It was hard to keep his expression steady but he did so as he made eye contact with Her. She smiled.
“Aziraphale,” She said, Her voice like honey.
“What do you want?” He asked. A question so simple. But to ask it was enough to unsettle Aziraphale. She did not hesitate in her answer.
“Your time,”
“You’ve taken enough of that already.” His voice was harsh but precise. Her smile did not falter but he could see something sad bloom in Her eyes.
“I know. I am sorry, dear.” The words felt patronizing. It left a bad feeling on Aziraphale’s tongue. He closed his eyes, trying to contain whatever expression was fighting its way onto his face. She continued to speak, “I only wanted to see how you two were. I have interrupted, haven’t I?”
“And if you have?” Aziraphale asked.
“I will leave,” she said. Aziraphale opened his eyes and found he could not hide the hate. She saw it plain and clear. And he watched the smile fall from her face, her shoulders drooping with the realization of just how deep his hate ran. Sadness felt foreign on a being as ethereal as Her. But there it was, plain as day.
“Oh my,” she spoke, “So this is what a heart can do. I’m beginning to understand.”
“Why did you feel as though you could just leave?” The question came out before Aziraphale could stop it. He paused, then continued, “Heaven was in shambles. And probably still is.”
“I needed to find myself. I realized part of my shortcomings. But I discover more every day.” Aziraphale broke eye contact. He had nothing to say to that. The excuse made sense but it was in no way good enough. He didn’t tell her that though. There was no good way to explain it. Instead, he scanned the land around them.
“What do you think of the world you almost destroyed?”
“I love it,” She breathed it out like Her own life depended on it, “I always did. But to be here on it-”
“It’s different,”
“It is.” And they both stayed silent, staring at the landscape around them. It was strange to be here with Her. She had nearly ruined his entire eternity simply by leaving to make herself better. What more could he say while he had the advantage on her? What would make her understand?
“I’m going to make a request,” Aziraphale said finally, “Do not seek us out again. Even if you return to Heaven or want to try to make amends in some way, I ask you to leave us be.”
She hesitated for a moment, then spoke, “I will honor this request.” Her own voice laced with sadness. Aziraphale nodded and took a deep breath. He turned on his heel, preparing to make his way back up the hill to Crowley. A parting thought conjured itself into his mind and he paused. He looked over his shoulder to her. She was still standing there, watching, waiting. Aziraphale swallowed hard.
“I forgive you,” he said. And he did not linger to watch her reaction or hear what she had to say. He left.
His arrival to the picnic blanket was met with an eager hug. Aziraphale leaned into it and felt relief that was unmatched. Crowley kept him there with one firm hand on his back and the other cradling his head against his chest. Aziraphale shuddered, the gravity of what he had just done fully setting in. But it was all paired with a sense of relief. He stayed there with Crowley, letting the Demon circle his thumbs in a calming motion.
“She’s gone,” Crowley said quietly, “What did you say?” Aziraphale pulled away, keeping his hands against Crowley. The sight of the Demon alone was enough to pull a grin on Aziraphale’s face. This was a moment to rejoice, after all.
“To leave us alone,”
“That’s my Angel,” Crowley said. Aziraphale laughed - he couldn’t help it. It was all surreal. But that interaction alone signified the end of Heaven’s meddling with their lives. They were finally free from all of it.
Their evening at the blanket was filled with laughter and shared kisses, minds far away from anything pertaining to Heaven or Hell. The blue of the sky melted into hues of orange and yellows as they finished off the bottle of chardonnay. Hands wandered in sleepy, drunken trances and Aziraphale found himself pulling Crowley into a long kiss. While it was simple and sweet, it was not devoid of passion.
And maybe a nightingale sang. Unfortunately, Aziraphale found himself too deliriously happy to even listen for it.