Crowley was startled awake by Aziraphale gasping and squeezing his hand in a vice-like grip. Crowley lifted his head from where it had been resting uncomfortably against the bus window.
It was a surprise that he'd managed to fall asleep at all considering the deep shit they were most definitely in. They'd just averted the apocalypse and their respective sides were bound to want revenge.
Aziraphale was staring out of the window with a hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes full of tears. "Oh! Crowley, look!"
Turning towards the window, Crowley saw that they were in Soho. The bookshop was visible from here, and somehow, against all the odds, it was still standing - in fact, it looked exactly as it had before the fire.
"But I thought you said it burnt down," Aziraphale choked out.
"It did," Crowley said, sitting up straight. "There were flames coming out of the windows. The top floor caved in. I don't-" He shook his head. "Adam must have brought it back."
Aziraphale let out a sob. "I thought it was gone."
The bus came to an abrupt stop (though the bus driver couldn't have explained what made him do it) and Aziraphale ran towards the bookshop while Crowley followed close behind.
Aziraphale unlocked the door with a blink and then rushed inside. He clutched his hands together, a delighted smile lighting up his face. "Oh! Oh, look! It's perfect! It's just the same as-" Aziraphale stopped and frowned. "I'm sure I didn't own quite so many children's books this morning. But that's a small price to pay!" Aziraphale turned to face Crowley and his smile immediately vanished. "What's the matter?"
Crowley couldn't respond. His stomach was in knots, memories of the bookshop in flames flashing before his eyes. He could still feel the mounting horror as he realised that Aziraphale had been taken away from him, and that everything Aziraphale treasured had been reduced to nothing more than smouldering ashes.
"S'nothing. I'm fine."
Aziraphale was in front of him immediately, taking one of Crowley's hands in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It's alright. Everything's going to be okay."
Crowley felt ashamed. Aziraphale was the one who had burnt to death in the bookshop fire. Crowley should be comforting him, not the other way around.
"I'm fine. Really," Crowley said. "How are you feeling?"
"Me? Oh, yes, I'm alright."
"I'm so sorry. I should have made it here sooner. I should have-"
"Shush now. You got here as soon as you could. You weren't to know. I should have been more careful."
"Who did it?" Crowley snarled.
Aziraphale looked confused.
"The fire. Who started the fire?"
Aziraphale's cheeks flushed. "Well, I suppose technically I did. I lit the candles to open a channel to Heaven so that I could try to convince them to put a stop to this whole war business, but it all went a bit pear shaped. I didn't lock the front door and then this man came in, and, long story short, I accidentally stepped into the circle and it discorporated me. I must have knocked a candle over during all of the excitement."
"Wait, wait, wait… You stepped into the circle? That's how you discorporated?"
Aziraphale nodded.
"Bloody Hell, angel, I thought you died in the fire!"
"What? No! Oh my goodness, that sounds like a terrible way to go."
"Exactly!" Crowley spluttered.
"I'm so sorry. I would have told you sooner if I'd known."
"S'fine. C'mon, grab your things and let's get going."
"Things?"
"Yeah, all your favourite stuff – books, music… that winged mug you're obsessed with. We're going to Alpha Centauri."
Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue but Crowley was having none of it.
"I insist this time," Crowley said, making his voice as authoritative as possible.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm not leaving you here to face the music alone!"
"They'll find us! They always know how to find us!"
"Not when it comes to Alpha Centauri! I went there for a mini holiday once, and when I got back Dagon said everyone had been wondering what had happened to me. They couldn't find me on Earth or in Hell! They couldn't sense me! They thought I'd fallen in a Church font or something! Oh, how we laughed! So fetch all your first editions and-"
"No. Running away won't solve our problems. What's the point of saving the Earth if we have to abandon it?"
"And here was I thinking you just wanted to save all of the innocent humans," Crowley said, tone harsher than he'd intended. They didn't have time for this, and Crowley was getting a headache. "We can't stay on Earth. It's not safe. I'm sorry, but this is our only option. Gather your stuff, and then we'll go to my apartment and I'll fetch my plants and as many DVDs as I can carry, and- Holy shit, maybe my car is okay if your bookshop is okay!"
"Crowley," Aziraphale said warningly.
"You've got fifteen minutes. I'll grab your gramophone and sort out a taxi-"
"Crowley, I think I know what the prophesy means."
Crowley's train of thought was immediately derailed, and he could do nothing but stare stupidly at Aziraphale for a moment. "What?"
"I was thinking about it on the bus while you were sleeping-"
"I was only resting my eyes. Look, let's start packing. You can tell me all about it in the taxi."
Crowley started towards the backroom, wanting to pack Aziraphale's impressive music collection, but then Aziraphale grabbed him by the arm and forced him to look at him.
"I have an idea, and it will save us both."
Crowley swallowed, hope flaring in his chest despite his efforts to squash it down.
"The prophesy said 'When alle is said and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enough ye will be playing with fyre.' Playing with fire? This prophesy is aimed at me. They're going to sentence me to death. Destruction by Hell fire."
Crowley stared at him, utterly mortified. "No, angel. Heaven would never destroy you."
Aziraphale gave him a sad smile. "I'm struggling to accept it too. But I know I'm right. Banishing me from Heaven wouldn't be enough – or making me Fall. They'll want to set an example. So will Hell. Both sides will have to work together for this." Aziraphale leant towards him conspiringly and lowered his voice. "We need to 'choose our faces wisely.' We need to swap bodies."
"Swap…? We don't even know if that's possible! What was it you said? We'd probably explode?"
Aziraphale looked embarrassed. "I was a tad overly cautious. It would have been so much easier if I'd possessed you instead of Madame Tracy. It's worth a try. I'm sure it'll work."
"Oh, you're sure, are you? Because this corporation has a huge amount of my demonic essence running through it. It won't be like possessing a human."
This corporation was part of him, it had his demonic power threaded through it, keeping it alive. This body didn't need to sleep, eat, or breathe, and it didn't age. He could even make this body shape shift into a serpent. Crowley tore off his sunglasses. "It's why my eyes are stuck like this." The thought of Aziraphale in here, tangled up in all of that was terrifying for far too many reasons.
"And I'm sure there's a fair amount of my holy essence within this corporation too, but I'm sure we can both handle it."
"Holy things can literally destroy me." Crowley pointed out, thinking of the way holy ground hurt his feet. But then he remembered a time when he'd thought touching Aziraphale would hurt too, and he'd learnt long ago that wasn't true. There had been accidental touches as far back as Eden - fingers brushing together. If their corporations could touch then maybe they could figure this out.
Aziraphale gave him a desperate smile. "Please, Crowley. We have to try it. This has to work or Agnes Nutter wouldn't have suggested it."
"What if you misinterpreted the prophesy?"
Aziraphale handed him the small scrap of paper, and Crowley read it, over and over. He had to admit, what Aziraphale was saying made sense, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.
"Are you sure it's for us?" Crowley said.
"It landed right in front of me. Agnus Nutter must have known it would. And another prophesy was definitely addressed to me too. It went something along the lines of: 'Open thine eyes and rede, I do say, foolish principalitee, for thy cocoa doth grow cold.' My cocoa was cold, Crowley! I'd forgotten all about it!"
Crowley rubbed at his forehead, thinking of all of the ways this could go wrong, even if the bodyswap worked.
"Let's just try it," Aziraphale said. "Imagine if I'm right! They'll never figure out how we survived. We can get one over on Heaven and Hell!"
"But what if they try the reverse as well? If the hellfire doesn't work on your corporation they might assume you've fallen and try holy water instead, and vice versa."
"No. They'll be too shocked and frightened – not to mention embarrassed! They'll panic, and send us on our merry way. I'm sure of it! We can win!"
Crowley shoved the paper back towards him. "It's too dangerous. We're not doing it."
Aziraphale's face fell. "You're worried about the body swap? Let's just test the waters, we can-"
"No!" Crowley snapped. "It's a terrible idea!"
Aziraphale snatched the paper from him, an angry look on his face. "I suppose you'd rather we just die then! You'd rather we both just died without even trying to stop it!"
"If we go to Alpha Cen-"
"I'm not running away!"
"Just listen-"
"No! You're not listening to me! Hell knows you went to Alpha Centauri because you went and told them that was where you were when they couldn't find you!"
Crowley froze. Shit. Aziraphale was right. "It's a big place."
"Crowley. Please. This is our only chance. They're going to catch us and they are going to sentence us to death. But we can take each other's place."
Crowley felt nauseous. "You can't go to Hell."
"I can and I will."
"…They won't destroy me. They won't…" Crowley's voice broke.
Aziraphale made an angry, frustrated sound. "What do you think they're going to do? Give each of us a slap on the wrist?!"
"They're going to torture me!" Crowley shouted. "They already said they would! Destruction is too easy – they want to watch me suffer for the rest of eternity! You're not going in my place!"
Crowley was shaking now, trembling with the inevitability of Hell finding him and dragging him into the deepest, darkest pit of Hell. He'd been trying not to think about it. He had to find somewhere to hide.
Aziraphale pulled him into a hug and after a moment Crowley buried his face against Aziraphale's shoulder.
"They're not going to torture you," Aziraphale said with such confidence that Crowley almost believed it. "They're going to sentence us both to destruction. Both sides will need to work together to get the hellfire and holy water they need. I don't think Hell would torture you first, not if Heaven's involved. They'll want to look somewhat professional. But even if they do I'm more than willing to go in your place. I can handle it. I'm stronger than I look."
Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and squeezed tightly. He didn't want to let go. He wanted to hold him and protect him forever.
Aziraphale spoke softly. "It's the best chance we've got, and I honestly think it's going to work. We know each other well enough to be able to pass as each other. And how well do our respective sides really know us anyway?"
Crowley couldn't believe he was really considering this. He squeezed Aziraphale a little tighter. He felt so warm. So soft. He smelt good. What would it be like to swap bodies? To be inside this body he knew so well?
"If they don't let you go," Crowley said, "I'll find you and I'll bring you home."
"Thank you," Aziraphale said softly. "Though I don't think that will be necessary. I'll be dripping in holy water. I'm sure all of Hell will want rid of me."
"Yeah." Crowley let out a laugh at the thought of the demons being afraid of a dripping wet Aziraphale.
"When the executions fail, they'll be too frightened to do anything but watch us leave. They'll think we're indestructible. Imagine that? They'll believe we're immune to the one thing that can hurt them. Just think how dangerous that makes us. They won't want to rile us any further. We'll have the upper hand."
Crowley drew back, heart racing. He looked him in the eyes. "We're really going to do this, aren't we? We must be mad." He reluctantly released Aziraphale from his grip. "How do we-? Should we go into the backroom? I don't want to risk anyone seeing this."
Aziraphale nodded.
Once in the backroom, Aziraphale automatically aimed for his armchair, but then he seemed to think better of it and settled down beside Crowley on the couch instead. They turned towards each other.
"Have you ever possessed anyone before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to sound calm but Crowley could hear how nervous he was in his voice.
"No," said Crowley. "What about you? What was it like when you possessed Madame Whatsit?"
"Madame Tracy. It was an odd experience, but the act of possessing her was far easier than I anticipated. I just slid right in."
Crowley did his best to ignore the innuendo. "Right."
"It felt terribly strange, having someone else's mind in the same body with me. I suppose it will be different for us though – we'll be swapping. We'll have to swap straight away. I imagine leaving a corporation unmanned wouldn't do it any good."
Crowley nodded, though he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have Aziraphale in his body with him, to feel his mind, his angelic essence, within his own head.
Aziraphale was fidgeting. "I suppose, as I've done this before, I should be the one to start us off. I'll begin by pushing inside of you – and then you can slip past me and enter my body. Alright?"
Crowley nodded. Was he blushing? It felt like he was blushing.
"Jolly good. Now, I think it will be best if we have a point of contact - if we're physically touching, I mean."
Aziraphale held out his hand, and Crowley stared at it for a moment, stomach fluttering, before he took it in a firm grip.
"We both ought to be as relaxed as possible," said Aziraphale. "I think that's what made it easier for me to possess Madame Tracy. She was in a trance like state - she was holding a séance, you see."
"Relax. Okay," said Crowley, who was feeling anything but relaxed. He took a deep breath, trying to force himself to calm down.
Aziraphale smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Do you remember in Eden when it started to rain?"
Crowley looked up at him, wondering where Aziraphale was going with this. "Yeah,"
"I lifted my wing to keep us both dry without even thinking about it. It was only afterwards I realised how dangerous it could have been. The physical manifestation of my wings - the holiest part of me - so close to your own. Our feathers brushed. Did you know?"
He'd known. It had sent shockwaves of pleasure through him, more than any accidental touches ever had. He still thought about it often. "Yeah."
"Nothing terrible happened then, and it won't now either," Aziraphale said in a soothing voice. "Everything's going to be okay."
"Yeah," Crowley said, and tried to believe it.
"Ready?" Aziraphale asked.
There was so much Crowley wanted to say before they did this - in case it all went wrong - but he knew it would sound like a goodbye and he didn't want to say goodbye.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Crowley said.
Aziraphale nodded. "Here I go..."
Aziraphale's eyes were closed, and Crowley found himself staring at his face, at the way his lips were slightly parted. He felt Aziraphale pushing his way under his skin - the strangest of sensations – and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Automatically, Crowley found himself resisting the invasion - a defensive response to this new sensation. But it was Aziraphale, his true form, and he trusted him completely. Crowley relaxed and welcomed him in, bit by bit, the two of them briefly sharing the same corporation until Crowley was flowing out through the path Aziraphale had left behind.
Aziraphale's corporation was warm and inviting as Crowley stretched out into every part of him. The stirrings of arousal that Crowley had been vaguely aware of in his own body vanished completely.
"Wow. It worked!"" Crowley gasped, and felt a jolt of surprise when it came out in Aziraphale's voice. He let out a disbelieving laugh, overjoyed.
Possessing Aziraphale's body was exhilarating, and more than a little overwhelming. Crowley could smell Aziraphale's favourite cologne, along with the heady scent that was Aziraphale himself. Crowley stretched his fingers, staring down at his perfectly manicured nails.
Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, and it felt so strange to see his own body sat beside him. Aziraphale was sitting up very straight, limbs tense, brow furrowed.
"How are you feeling, ang- er, demon?" Crowley corrected.
Aziraphale turned to stare at him, and his yellow eyes were full of shock.
Aziraphale was used to wearing comfortable and loose fitting clothes - even if his waistcoats were sometimes a little snug around the middle - so it was strange to find himself suddenly in the tightest trousers known to man.
His slender legs were being squeezed tightly, but that wasn't even the half of it. These trousers felt… strangely tight around the groin. There was something strange going on in his undergarments, a tight, aching pressure, odd but not entirely unpleasant, and it left Aziraphale feeling quite disturbed.
"Wow. It worked!" Crowley said, startling Aziraphale out of his thoughts. "How are you feeling, ang- Er. Demon?"
Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley and found it bizarre to see his own body sat there. "I- I'm alright, I think. But…"
"What's the matter?" Crowley asked, clearly worried.
Aziraphale got to his feet, thinking that might help. It didn't. In fact, the way the material of his trousers moved against his groin only drew his attention to it all the more.
"It- It's grown!" he spluttered, looking down at the slight bulge in his trousers and feeling equal parts distress and embarrassment.
Crowley's gaze dropped to Aziraphale's crotch and he tensed. "Oh… Oh no."
"This is terribly inappropriate!"
"Don't be so dramatic," Crowley snapped, cheeks turning bright red. "You can barely tell. I was only pitching a semi anyway. 'S nothing. Sometimes stress can make it- Doesn't mean anything."
Aziraphale glared at him. He had no idea what 'pitching a semi' meant and he didn't want to know. "I don't like it. I- I'm going to miracle away the sexuality from this body."
Crowley made a panicked sound. "Don't do that! I like my body how it is, don't go messing with it. I might not be able to get it back to how it was."
"I can't stay like this!"
"It'll go away on its own if you ignore it."
Aziraphale glared at him, but now that Crowley mentioned it, his member did seem to have softened somewhat. "I suppose."
"No. I'm sorry. You're right," Crowley said, shame in his voice. "Feel free to wish it away. I don't mind. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
It was a relief to have been given permission but it was still clear that Crowley would rather he didn't alter his body. Aziraphale let out a sigh, not wanting to go against his friend's true wishes. "It just gave me a bit of a fright, that's all. I'll see how I get on."
Crowley smiled awkwardly and then averted his eyes. He got to his feet and then stretched his arms and his legs as though testing them. He looked down at his own crotch with interest.
A mortifying thought occurred to Aziraphale. "Do not alter my body! No saucy business!"
"What? No. I'd never- It's just… I had no idea you were anatomically correct. I always thought angels were like ken dolls."
"Of course we're anatomically correct – we just don't have sexuality. How else would we use the facilities?"
"I figured you'd just miracle it away."
Aziraphale pulled a face. "That would be a terrible waste of a miracle. Besides, I'd have caused quite a scene in the roman bathhouses if I hadn't been properly equipped."
"Well, excuse me for not realising you were in the habit of getting your kit off in public."
"Talking of habits, you really need to stop slouching. I always have good posture."
Crowley straightened up before turning to face Aziraphale. "And you need to stop standing like you have a stick up your arse."
Aziraphale gave him a withering look, but he tried to relax his posture all the same. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans in a Crowley-like fashion. "There isn't much pocket space. Where do you keep your spare change?"
"I just glue that to the pavement."
Aziraphale sighed.
Crowley tilted his head and then raised an eye brow. "Have you never…? I mean, you must have been tempted to find out what it's like. Seeing as you already have the necessary bits."
"Of course not! I'm an angel - we don't go in for that sort of thing. I have no interest in any of that nonsense."
"Seems kinda cruel to give someone a dick and then not let them have any fun with it." A mischievous look came into Crowley's eyes. "You can have a go with mine if you like."
Aziraphale made a scandalised noise and gave Crowley a sharp look. "Don't be vulgar," he chided. "Lust is a sin."
"That never stopped Sandalphon," Crowley muttered.
"What are you blathering on about?"
"I saw him going into a brothel once so I snuck in after him. All I'll say is that he wasn't there to show them the error of their ways."
Aziraphale's face twisted with disgust. "You're making that up."
"And this is why I never told you. I knew you wouldn't believe me."
And yet, Aziraphale found that he did believe him. Aziraphale's opinion of Sandalphon had always been low but it hit rock bottom the moment Sandalphon and Uriel attacked him on the street. Aziraphale wouldn't put anything past those bad angels.
Aziraphale held his head high. "Sandalphon also goes around turning people into salt so I wouldn't use him as an example of how an angel should behave."
Crowley looked surprised. "Did you just bad mouth another angel?"
"We're getting way off track here," Aziraphale said quickly. "We have so much we need to do. We need to practice being each other. I'll practice your walk."
"Yeah, go on then." Crowley said, draping himself casually across the sofa. He gestured for Aziraphale to proceed.
Aziraphale crossed his arms. "Have you ever seen me sit like that?"
Crowley let out a sigh and sat up properly. "Howssat?"
"How's that," Aziraphale corrected.
"Elocution lessons now?"
"If you start spouting slang in Heaven the jig will be up."
"Good gracious, you're quite right! My humble apologies, dear boy!"
Aziraphale rolled his eyes.
"The opposite is true too, you know," Crowley said. "No cries of, 'Oh, sugar!' or 'Oh no!'"
Aziraphale swallowed hard. "But I can't use foul language."
Crowley laughed but then his face softened. "To be honest, none of the demons know me well enough to notice a slight change in my usual language. If you're worried then just say something sarcastic and you'll be all good. Now, c'mon," he said, making a sweeping gesture with an arm. "Let's see you walk the walk."
Aziraphale sauntered to the door and back. He smiled proudly. "How was that?"
"Sorry, angel. I don't walk like that."
Aziraphale's face fell. "I'm terribly sorry, let me try it again. You have such a unique walk."
Aziraphale clicked his fingers and a free-standing full-length mirror appeared. He walked back and forth again, feeling like he was on a catwalk. This time his saunter was perfect. Aziraphale beamed.
Crowley shook his head. "Nope. You look like you're about to fall over."
"Well… Yes."
"What do you mean, 'Yes?' You need to make it less wiggly."
"But you are wiggly, my dear! Please, Crowley, I've been watching you walk about this Earth for 6000 years. It's like your hips aren't even attached to your spine. Believe me, this is your walk."
Crowley looked like he was having an existential crisis. "Fine," he snapped. He got up and walked over to the mirror, inspecting his new corporation's reflection. "I'll practice your facial expressions while you swish about." He adjusted his waistcoat and made various faces at the mirror.
Aziraphale joined him, wiggling expressive dark eyebrows, and then he had a go at Crowley's cheeky grin.
"We look like a pair of idiots," Crowley stated after a few minutes. He flopped back down onto to the sofa.
"Speak for yourself."
Crowley had taken on a casual sprawl but before Aziraphale had the chance to tell him off again Crowley was sitting up properly. Crowley placed his hands on his knees. "I fancy tea and cake."
"No need to be cheeky."
"No, I genuinely feel hungry. It's weird. I don't crave food very often - unless you count coffee and alcohol."
"Maybe it's my body craving it."
"Maybe."
Aziraphale smiled. "How does a slice of Batternberg sound?"
"Perfect."
Soon they were sat together with tea and cake. They found that they each preferred their tea how they usually took it – Aziraphale with no sugar, and Crowley with enough sugar and milk that Aziraphale doubted he could even taste the tea in it. It was strange that their tastes hadn't changed, but then again, it'd been the same when he'd possessed Madame Tracy. She'd made them each a cup of tea while he'd told her all about the imminent Apocalypse.
Crowley put down his teacup, a worried look on his face. "Being able to act like each other won't be enough, you know. We're gonna need to know everything the other knows too. They'll figure out something's up if we've lost great big chunks of our memory."
Which was how Aziraphale found himself listening to Crowley's account of recent events. Aziraphale pushed his plate of half-finished cake onto the table as Crowley recounted how Hastur and Ligur came for him, resulting in Ligur's demise and Hastur being trapped inside a cassette. Aziraphale felt faint at the idea of Crowley using the holy water he had given him, knowing how easily he might have splashed himself.
Once Crowley had finished his story it was Aziraphale's turn. He explained how he'd tried numerous times to convince Gabriel that they needed to stop the war, and even went over his head to talk to the Metatron.
Aziraphale realised he'd missed out the part where Michael, Sandalphon and Uriel were waiting for him out on the street. He dived straight into it. "So then they accused me of consorting with the enemy! Awful business. Sandalphon punched me in the solar plexus."
"What! The where?!"
"Just above the stomach. It rather took me by surprise. And then Uriel grabbed me and pinned me to the wall."
Crowley made a spluttering sound and leapt to his feet. His mouth twisted into a snarl and his hands bunched into fists. Aziraphale found it bizarre, seeing that expression on his own corporation. "Those asshats! When I get my hands on them-!"
"Oh, do calm down, Crowley. For the record, Michael didn't touch me. Though she was the ring leader I suppose…"
"I'll knock her out anyway! And Gabriel too while I'm at it! They're all bastards!"
"I understand your distress but please remember you're pretending to be me and I don't go around knocking people out. Do sit down. It's exhausting watching you pace back and forth."
Crowley threw himself back onto the sofa, looking upset. "Have they done it before?"
"Hit me? Goodness, no. Never. That's why it caught me so off guard. I never expected such terrible behaviour from them. I'm so sorry I've upset you."
"M'not upset. Just furious."
"Don't do anything silly while you're up there."
"I won't. Just seeing the looks on their faces when the fire doesn't hurt me will be enough." Crowley gave him a grin.
Aziraphale remembered another thing he'd failed to mention but the thought of sharing it made his face heat up. He considered keeping it a secret but he knew he shouldn't keep anything hidden, just in case it came up later while Crowley was pretending to be him.
"There's something else… Um. When I realised I'd stepped into the circle I was rather emotional you see and- oh, it's terribly embarrassing."
"What?" Crowley said, leaning forward, curiosity on his face.
"Well, I was rather miffed, and I- Well. I accidentally swore."
Crowley chuckled. "Yeah? Shouted out a 'bloody Hell,' did you?"
"It was a little stronger than that," said Aziraphale, his palms sweating.
"Did you say bugger? Because I've heard you say that before."
"I've never said that!"
"Yeah, you have. When you were drunk, you said 'Great big bugger.' Talking about the kraken."
"Hmm," said Aziraphale, eying him warily. "Well. It was a little more colourful than that as well." Aziraphale averted his eyes. "I said the 'F' word."
"You said 'Fuck!?'"
"It was a very stressful time!"
Crowley started laughing, his shoulders shaking with it. "Angel, this is the best thing I've ever heard. Say it again! Go on!"
"No! And stop laughing! It isn't funny. It's terribly embarrassing and I'm only telling you because I have to."
"Why do you have to?" Crowley said, sounding genuinely confused.
Aziraphale gave him a look. "Why do you think?"
Crowley frowned.
"Where was I when I swore?"
"In the circle, right?"
"And what does the circle do?"
"It's a communica- Oh!"
"The Metatron must have heard me swear! I can't think of anything more embarrassing!" Aziraphale covered his mouth with a hand, his eyes squeezed closed in humiliation.
"While I'm in Heaven maybe I should tell all of the angels to fuck off. Now it's in character for you and everything."
Aziraphale glared at him.
They talked well into the night, sharing as much information as they could think of, some of it getting rather personal. Aziraphale confessed that there wasn't a single angel in Heaven that he would consider anything more than a work colleague - he had no friends among them - and Crowley confessed much the same thing about the demons. Neither of them seemed surprised by the other's confession.
Aziraphale stood up. "I think I ought to get going to the flat."
"Huh? Mayfair? Yeah. I suppose. Our people might be waiting until we're alone before capturing us." Crowley sighed. "Best get it over and done with."
"Yes. But also if anyone is spying on us and we spend the night in the bookshop together… I don't want them to have any inkling of how close we are. It would be a clue."
"Good point. Don't want them to know we're close enough to be able to pretend to be each other, right? And I wouldn't put it past Heaven and Hell to be watching the bookshop right now. I'll stay here and… I dunno. Pretend to read or something."
"I'll wander around your flat and water the plants."
"Keep away from the plants! You'll over-water them. And keep out of the office too. The floor is a mess after what happened with the holy water."
"Which rooms am I allowed in? Or am I banished to the kitchen?"
"I have other rooms. Bathroom, bedroom, er, storage closet."
"Oh, I'll just stand in the closet with the hoover then, shall I?"
"What makes you think I have a hoover? I just miracle the dust away. You'll be stood with bags of potting soil."
They decided to call a taxi, and Crowley started to dig into his coat pocket to grab his mobile telephone before stopping and looking embarrassed. Aziraphale fished the device out of his own coat pocket - it was technically his coat right now - and called himself a taxi after Crowley taught him how to unlock the phone and find the contact list. Afterwards, he put the phone back into his pocket and decided to never touch it again - modern technology was far too confusing.
"You'll be okay, won't you?" Crowley said as Aziraphale stepped out onto the pavement.
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow in the park. We can meet at the ice-cream cart."
"Trust you to be thinking about ice-cream," Crowley said with an affectionate smile. "Call me if you need anything, yeah? You can use my mobile. I'll be there in a flash."
"Thanks, angel," Aziraphale said with a smile, and Crowley – in an angel's body - let out a laugh.
Authors Note:
So, I like to imagine that Aziraphale honestly thought that Madame Tracy was doing a real séance. But actually she was making the whole thing up, and in the book, when she pretends to be 'Drawing Aside the Veil' she's actually doing her shopping list in her head!
This fic is fully written - I'm just doing final edits. I'm aiming to update every Monday.