Chapter One: An Interesting Turn of Events

Crowley slammed his foot on the gas pedal, cursing at what he referred to as grandma drivers on the road. He smacked his horn, weaving in and out of traffic as he shot glares at various innocent people in their cars. The last thing he wanted this evening was for Aziraphale to lecture him on the importance of punctuality. He could suffer through the boring speech, but he simply could not bear to disappoint the angel. He'd done that enough over the years. Now that they had made a sort of commitment to each other, the idea of hurting Aziraphale in any way upset him.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, slamming his hands on the wheel as he contemplated speeding through the red light that had just presented itself. He tapped his fingers against the leather impatiently, glancing at the radio clock.

"Come on, come on, come on… YES!" Once the light turned green, he proceeded on his way, getting to his destination with five minutes spare. He breathed a sigh of relief, glancing at the small bouquet of flowers laying in the seat beside him. He crinkled his nose, still debating if he should even give them to him. That was like the oldest romantic trick in the book and he couldn't believe he let Elizabeth talk him into getting them in the first place, but she had been very insistent that they would make Aziraphale's day. With a somewhat heavy sigh, he grabbed them and got out of the car and half fixed his already loose necktie. He looked at his reflection in the car window and smoothed his hair down a bit before pushing the glass door of the book shop, the soft chime of the bell feeling more and more like home each time he heard it.

Aziraphale had his back to him at first, the soft lighting in the shop creating a bit of a halo around the blonde whisps of his hair. He turned around to face Crowley, that soft gentle smile of his making Crowley's darkened heart flutter.

"I do sincerely apologize, sir," he said with a soft laugh, closing the book he was holding, "But I'm afraid we're closed. You'll have to come back in the morning." He gestured to the closed sign on the door apologetically. Crowley couldn't help but smirk a bit at his lover's playfulness.

"Haha... very funny Angel," he cooed with a light chuckle, extending the flowers out to him. Aziraphale looked even more apologetic in that moment, a hint of confusion clouding his eyes.

"Flowers? At this hour? Forgive me! I wasn't expecting a delivery. Annalise does find ways to surprise me every day. Do I need to sign for these?" He began patting his pockets frantically as if searching for something, "And of course I've misplaced my pen. You wouldn't have one I could borrow, would you?" Crowley's jaw dropped and he stared blankly for a minute before he burst out laughing, actual tears springing to his eyes.

"Okay, I'll admit, you had me for a moment there. I didn't take you to be quite a compelling actor. Did Liza put you up to this? I bet she did. She's not here is she? I love the girl to pieces, but her presence wouldn't make for a very good date, now would it?" Aziraphale opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by an overly cheerful female voice from behind one of the shelves.

"Azzie, who are you talking to?" When she stepped out from her hiding spot, Crowley was almost certain he'd never seen this woman before in his life. She was quite stunning to look at so he was sure he would remember her. She had long, wavy hair that was so bright blonde it was almost white. Her eyes were a striking blue color, an almost shy smile gracing her lips. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and strode over to Aziraphale's side, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a small kiss to his cheek.

"Is this a friend of yours?" she asked, shooting Crowley an innocent smile. The way the angel looked at this girl made Crowley's skin crawl with jealousy. It was that same gentle gaze he often looked at him with, a gaze that should be reserved for him. Not only that, but he was acting like he hadn't seen Crowley a day in his life. Like they were strangers and didn't have a love story spanning centuries.

"I'm not sure who this is, beloved," Aziraphale told her softly, a look of pure adoration in his eyes; like they were the only two in the room. It made the demon feel quite sick to his stomach. This was madness and he was starting to realize this wasn't some sick prank either. He knew Aziraphale. Try as he might, the angel was pretty bad at practical jokes, especially if they accidently hurt those around him. He would never agree to a joke like this. Not in a million years. Crowley had no idea what was going on though. Was it amnesia? Was he in some sort of accident? No, that wouldn't explain his infatuation with this girl all of the sudden. He was almost positive either Heaven or Hell was behind this somehow considering he'd been fine yesterday. Crowley clenched his fists at his sides, glaring daggers at the two from behind his shades.

"This isn't finished," he whispered, mostly because he knew there were ears everywhere and they would hear him. He tossed the flowers onto the floor of the book shop and pushed his way outside, glaring into the darkened streets to keep the tears locked behind his eyes. He cried so rarely after all but the second he got into his car and everything sunk in, the dam broke and clouded his vision. He gritted his teeth to try and get it to stop but eventually he gave in and let it happen.

Elizabeth Devanbrock swirled her wine around in her glass, her black painted lips leaving a lip print on the rim. She sunk deeper into the couch, tossing a piece of popcorn into the air, and catching it in her mouth like a pro while Jason Vorhees slaughtered unsuspecting teens on the screen in front her. She huffed in frustration when their lovely screams were interrupted by a loud banging on her door. She wasn't suspecting company and her only friend was probably balls deep in his date by now, so her resentment was real. She set he drink on the coffee table and begrudgingly stood up, lazily throwing the door open and leaning against it. Her vexation quickly turned to confusion though when she saw Crowley basically sobbing on her doorstep.

"Crowley?" she asked, suddenly very concerned, "What are you doing here? Is Az hurt? Isn't it your anniversary?" She opened the wider so he could come in but instead of dramatically brushing past her like he usually would he stepped forward and rested his forehead against her chest in utter defeat.

"He's gone, Liza…" he whispered, and a soft whimper escaped him. Liza had never seen him like this before and she immediately feared the worst. Crowley may have been her best friend, but she enjoyed being around Aziraphale too and would be devastated if anything happened to him. Awkwardly, she wrapped her arms around the demon falling apart against her.

"Gone… how?" She was almost afraid to ask, but knew she needed to know for sure and make no assumptions. She listened intently as Crowley started babbling on about what happened when he showed up at the bookstore that evening. Liza tilted her head a bit in confusion at the concept that Aziraphale had been totally fine and in love with Crowley the day before and then did a total three sixty the next day and had a girlfriend? There was definitely something fishy going on here.

"You're not going to just take it and give up, are you?" she finally said, putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him backward slightly so he would look up at her.

"What am I supposed to do?" he whined, looking absolutely pitiful and mopey. She rolled her eyes and backhanded him.

"Snap out of it," she said, giving his shoulders a firm shake, "What would Anthony J. Crowley do in this situation? Give up like a loser or keep fighting for the man he's loved for centuries? If I was that deeply in love, I know I wouldn't let anyone, or anything stand in my way. So, what are you supposed to do? You, one, make him remember or two, make him fall in love with you all over again." Crowley wiped his eyes and sniffed, nodding at her words.

"What about the girl?" he finally asked, and Liza shrugged a bit.

"Want me to kill her?" she suggested, which made the demon laugh.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Liza, dear… but thank you." He straightened up and stretched his arms over his head, the wheels in his brain obviously turning.

"So, what are you going to do?" Elizabeth asked with a smirk.

"You may have heard the saying Karma's a bitch? Well, it's actually a demon, and his name is Anthony J. Crowley."