"Ready, angel?"

Crowley was overexcited. He'd been talking nonstop about it for a week.

"As ready as I can be, I suppose." Aziraphale sighed and sat down. He couldn't get rid of a persistent foreboding, but he had kept quiet, so as not to ruin his friend's enthusiasm.

Crowley was fidgety on the couch, but when the opening credits started, he leaned toward the television then stayed very still, sitting cross-legged and holding a cushion tight against him.

Eden was somewhat stereotyped, in Aziraphale's opinion, but it felt a little weird to see it on screen anyway. Though it would have been worse if he'd had to watch his own buttocks(1) so he was grateful the angel was wearing a robe.(2)

[1 Technically, Richard Ayoade's, but still.

2 He was less grateful about his very badly groomed wings, because it would only add grist to the mill for Crowley, who'd always made a big fuss about them. Checking out his own wings wasn't easy but Aziraphale was pretty sure they weren't such a mess.]

Crowley let out an ecstatic squeak. "Look at the Serpent! I'm gorgeous!"

"Of course, dear," murmured Aziraphale. Crowley was always gorgeous, no matter his form.(3)

[3 Alright, maybe not the one with the maggots. And yet, Aziraphale found them less disgusting than ordinary maggots. (Not that he was officially allowed to think they were disgusting - creatures of God and all that.)]

"I still can't believe you lied directly to God," said the demon, with a hint of admiration in his voice.

Aziraphale made a noncommittal noise. Crowley nudged him. "Oh, please, don't pretend you're not proud as a peacock about it! You couldn't help bragging in the Buggre Alle This Bible."

The angel couldn't hold back a smirk.

.

The series was now showing them through the centuries. Enemies, first.(4) Then associates. Then friends. Sort of friends, Aziraphale had once overheard Crowley saying to a shared acquaintance who was surprised they knew each other. The angel had mentally crossed out the "sort of" that was most assuredly for show.

[4 They had never been very zealous in this, to be honest. Too tiring.]

He uncomfortably observed that Adam hadn't lied when he'd said he knew all about them. For instance, he knew how Crowley had traded his idea for a helicopter – the demon was so smart – for Leonardo da Vinci's sketch of the Mona Lisa. Nostradamus' appearance – a true lookalike – brought back nice memories. Though Aziraphale's smile froze when he saw Riz Ahmed hanging out with Shakespeare. A question had been lingering in the back of his mind for a long time, and it was the perfect opportunity to let it slip offhandedly.

"So, uh… you two were very close, weren't you?"

"Yeah." Crowley's smile was tinged with nostalgia. Aziraphale's stomach cramped. Obviously, the second cream cake at tea time was a bad idea. The demon nodded his head toward the screen. "Just like you with Oscar, I guess."

"We were close friends, but nothing more," replied Aziraphale, more curtly than intended.

"That's what I'm saying." Ah? Aziraphale had always thought… Well, it was… good to know. To avoid any faux pas in conversation, that was all. "Why do you- Oh, fuck!" Crowley stared wide-eyed at Riz Ahmed in various 20th century clothing and stammered, "I never wore such ugly suits! And those haircuts! Ha! As if-"

"I'm sorry to disagree, dear boy, but I distinctly remember them."(5) Aziraphale felt better now that the cream cakes had ceased to torment him and he added mischievously, "I might have even kept some pictures somewhere."(6)

[5 After his interminable nap, Crowley had been experimenting with a lot of unlikely fashion styles, until he gave up in the eighties. Everybody has a limit.

6 He actually knew exactly where they were stored.]

Crowley turned to him, mouth open, about to argue, but instead he just squinted and mumbled, "Okay. What do you want in exchange for them?"

"Oh, I'm afraid you couldn't afford it. But I'll think about it."

The demon looked back at the television and observed wryly, "At least, one of us has changed his look since the fifties."

"Only one of us had to," replied Aziraphale, tongue-in-cheek.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley's attempt to glare at him being ruined by the chuckle the demon was unable to restrain.

Ah, Crowley's laugh! Not his too high-pitched giggle that invariably revealed more than concealed his nervousness, but his genuine laugh when he was feeling good and comfortable. That one never failed to arouse a sweet warmth within Aziraphale's chest.

"That's a bunch of memories," said Crowley softly.

Aziraphale caught his fond glance. He cherished that his friend had ceased to wear his sunglasses when they were alone together, as Crowley's beautiful eyes always expressed what he was reluctant to say.

Not that Aziraphale was very effusive himself. In his opinion, 6000 years together exempted one from saying obvious things out loud. But he could, for once.

"Thank you, dear." Not so obvious, by Crowley's disconcerted look. "For always being around," clarified Aziraphale. The demon's furtive surprised and delighted smile took him aback. All right, he wasn't as eager for company as Crowley, but he could hardly imagine his life on Earth without him and he'd thought his friend knew it.

"Likewise," replied Crowley with his eternally mock apathetic tone.

"They've set Adam's birth in 2007," pointed Aziraphale, to avoid dwelling on Crowley's smile. "Oh, listen, Queen! I'm glad they – Dear? Are you crying?"

"M'not." Crowley furtively wiped a tear. Oh, surely, the poor boy was emotional because of Aziraphale's token of affection. Aw, it was so… Hang on. No. Crowley was actually lovingly watching the (other) Bentley like a parent would be gazing at their child during their first school play. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. He didn't know if he had to feel relieved or offended that Crowley's emotion had nothing to do with what he'd said.(7)

[7 Let's say he was 30% relieved and 70% offended.]

Hastur and Ligur's appearance brought Aziraphale's attention back to the screen. "Do they really look so funny?"(8)

[8 He should have used a past tense about Ligur, who presumably looked now like nothing but a handful of mashed slugs (and certainly not a funny one) on the old carpet Crowley had sent God knows where. But Aziraphale had always had trouble reminding himself that Crowley had once killed someone for real.]

"No. In real life, they look like assholes.(9) You have no idea what's like to work with such jerks."

[9 As for Crowley, he didn't like to remember that incident.]

"Don't even get me started on Gabriel."

"And them!" Crowley accusingly gestured toward the television as the nuns misplaced the Antichrist a few minutes later. "Must I do everything myself?"

"Aren't you the one who invented subcontracting? As I always say, evil contains the seeds of its own-"

"I know the adage, thank you very much. And I reiterate: mere incompetence."

"It was for the best anyway. Incompetence – if you insist – saved the world."

"You should have that printed on a t-shirt."

"Oh, look! The third baby! We've always wondered if they…"

Crowley looked like it had taken a load off his mind. "The Johnsons… Does that ring any bells?" Aziraphale shook his head. The flames from the burning convent illuminated Hastur's satisfied smile.(10) "Told you it was him! What an idiot."

[10 If Crowley had a tendency towards pilfering, pyromania was unquestionably Hastur's thing. Everyone has their little hobby.]

Anathema's childhood was interesting.(11) And, as a child, Newton was… Newton, only smaller. They were cute. At least, Aziraphale wanted to think "cute" but "weird" won the battle. Weirder than the average child, that is.(12) Although he felt affinity with Anathema, who had a proper vocabulary and her nose always in The Book.

[11 Mostly because Aziraphale could learn more about The Nice and Accurate Prophecies and about Agnes Nutter, if he had to be honest with himself. Which he wasn't very often.

12 According to what he had read about children.]

.

And then, he saw the bookshop, where Riz Ahmed was trying to convince Richard Ayoade to disobey and counter the Divine Plan. It was like watching a half-accurate portrait of oneself. He could recognise some features – the dirty window and the narrowly-spaced bookshelves, bowed under the weight of countless books(13) – but the whole representation gave a sense of incongruity.

[13 Figure of speech. There were exactly 58,497 books in the bookshop.]

He didn't like the way their conversation was recounted, either.

First, they were both utterly ridiculous. Admittedly, they'd had a few glasses of wine and he couldn't remember their discussion in detail but he certainly hadn't said such nonsense.(14) He was about to ask about Crowley's memories but the demon looked as sceptical and ashamed as himself.

[14 A bird in a space ship? Really.]

Besides, his character looked like a dupe the demon had easily led around by the nose. That was not how it had happened. Only idiots don't change their mind when confronted by relevant arguments. Implying it was by being manipulated was acting in bad faith.

And speaking of Crowley's arguments! Aziraphale was depicted as a self-righteous angel who'd agreed to save the world only for his own interests – and frivolous reasons like sushi and snuffboxes, on top of that! Granted, they'd had a little part in his decision. But he had also, of course, had more noble motives. Like people and…pfff… a plethora of other altruistic reasons.(15) As if Crowley was the only one genuinely concerned about Earth!

[15 He could perfectly provide them if he wasn't distracted by this absurd series.]

No, really, he was shamefully and unfairly portrayed! And Crowley should have the good grace to look scandalised.

Surprise tempered his outrage when he noticed that, in the show, he and Crowley in person had applied to work for the Cultural Attaché. Ha! This proved him right: the script had taken liberties with the truth. Like they would do that themselves. They'd had more essential tasks to carry out.(16) That's what subordinates are for.

[16 Like reading for the 62nd time "The Importance of Being Earnest" while awaiting the next business meeting with one's associate.]

Now Crowley huffed indignantly at the screen. "And why would you be the gardener, mmh? You can barely water a plant."

"Because you're better than I am with children."(17)

[17 His angelic patience ran out amazingly fast when confronted to those little noisy creatures who put their dirty hands on everything – including books.]

It was a heartwarming scene, indeed. Aziraphale, his bitterness temporarily assuaged, found himself looking fondly at Crowley-the-nurse singing a lullaby to Warlock. They should have considered applying, in retrospect. Not to mention Crowley had always looked good in skirts.

It was only a short respite, though. Those scenes were interspersed with Adam growing up and playing with Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale, as if to underline how stupid he and Crowley were, busily taking care of the wrong child.

"Anyone would've made the same mistake," growled Crowley, seemingly following the same train of thought.

.

Warlock's eleventh birthday took the cake.(18) Aziraphale couldn't deny that his performance had been less successful than expected, but there was no need to make a fool of him like that. The angel gave a sideways glance to Crowley, expecting him to be snickering. It was even worse. The demon was sinking into the couch, carefully avoiding eye contact, a painfully embarrassed air across his face, obviously dying for the scene to be over. A shared feeling.

[18 Not literally, unlike Aziraphale's face and coat that day.]

They could have highlighted how Aziraphale had saved Crowley from the bullet but no, no, instead they had chosen to show how oblivious the angel, covered with cream, had been to the dead dove, and how it was the demon who'd brought the bird back to life.

Fine. Crowley was going to be shown in the better light all through the series. Wonderful.