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Shipping It

Summary:

Anthony J. Crowley has just won a free cruise. The catch? It’s a couple’s cruise, and he’s decidedly single (no, he’s not interested in unpacking why he registered for a prize he couldn’t enjoy, thank you very much).

There's only one thing for it: He needs to convince his “enemy” (read: secret crush) to pretend to be his new husband celebrating their honeymoon. As one does.

Notes:

Written for the Good Omens Fic Writer's Workshop Guess the Author, round 41. The prompt was 'ship'.

This might be continued if there's interest

Work Text:

“Surely you must be joking.”

“I’m not joking, and don’t call me Shirley.” Aziraphale pursed his lips at Crowley, and his old frenemy grinned before he went on. “This is a foolproof plan.”

“I can think of several gaping holes, dear,” he snarked.

Crowley looked as if he had something he wanted to say, something that was likely wicked and crude, but refrained. “Name them,” he challenged.

“First of all - and most salient, I think: we are not married. I don’t even like you!”

“You doooo,” Crowley replied. “And we don’t have to be married. We just have to pretend to be married.”

”Why on earth would we do such a thing?”

Crowley clicked his tongue. “I told you. I won a drawing for a free cruise. It’s for couples. We’ll be in the honeymoon suite!”

“The honeymoon suite!”

“Yes! It’s got a jacuzzi and everything.”

Aziraphale took a breath. ”Putting that aside, the honeymoon suite presents another question: Why did you sign up for a drawing that required you to be half of a couple?”

Again, he looked like he was struggling with himself. “Because I thought it would be fun.”

”Who did you intend to go with on this trip?”

”I didn’t think that far ahead. But when I won, I figured you might want to come.”

”Why the devil would you think of me?”

He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I dunno. Just seemed like the kind of thing you’d like - if you let yourself.”

”I haven’t ever been on a boat,” Aziraphale mused. “But the honeymoon suite...”

”Yeah? What about it?”

”It’s going to be meant for couples, dear. There are likely to be roses and… and champagne, and…”

”Yeah,” Crowley said, waving a flippant hand. “It’s probably gonna be romantic or whatever.” He hesitated. “There’s going to be only one bed…”

Only one bed!” Aziraphale squawked, mortified.

“Yeah, but it’ll be a really big bed. They’ll want room for people to have… I don’t know. Acrobatics.”

Aziraphale decidedly did not let himself think about that. “Are we meant to share said bed?”

”I mean, if there’s a couch or something, we could take turns with it.” Aziraphale pursed his lips again. He did not like sleeping on couches, but he was entirely unsure about sleeping in the same bed with Crowley. “It’ll be fun! It’ll be an adventure!”

”Have you ever known me to be adventurous?”

Crowley gave him a grin. “There’s a first time for everything, angel.”

Aziraphale ignored him. “So we would be posing as a couple.”

”Yes. A happy, newly married couple.”

“Which would involve… what, exactly?” Aziraphale challenged.

“Well, you’d have to pretend to like me, for one thing.”

“I’m not that good an actor.”

Crowley didn’t acknowledge that. “We’d have to have dinner together, do some stuff together -“

“What kind of ‘stuff’?”

“You know. Cruise ship shit. Games or whatever. Bad comedy shows. Stops on islands and whatnot.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes to the sky, as if beseeching the almighty. “It sounds like a complete nightmare.”

“I‘ll bet you anything that if you go with me and give it a chance, you’ll have fun.”

”You’d lose that bet. Crowley, I don’t like the sea. I don’t like traveling. I like my little flat, my little shop, and my books.”

“You can take all the books you want. And I know for a fact you’ll enjoy this cruise. It’s Mediterranean, so we’re stopping at a couple places in Italy -“

”I don't speak Italian.”

”- and Greece, and a couple other places I’m not remembering off the top of my head. There are interpreters and the places we’re going are used to tourists. Everyone will understand English. Come on, angel. It’ll be fun.”

Aziraphale could feel himself caving. “Crowley…”

”I dare you to give this a chance, Aziraphale.”

He huffed. ”Don’t dare me, I don’t like being dared -“

Crowley grinned, as if he sensed victory. ”I triple dog dare you to give this a chance. And if you don’t have fun, I’ll never bother you again.”

He paused. “Never?”

”You’ll never have to speak to me again.”

That was not something that Aziraphale actually wanted, but he couldn’t let Crowley know that. As far as Crowley knew, he was offering the best possible incentive, and Aziraphale would be foolish not to take it.

So he sighed. “Tell me how this is supposed to work.”

Crowley beamed at him.