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“What are you doing?”
Crowley nearly bumped his head on the car boot as he straightened in surprise. He had not expected Aziraphale to turn up in front of his Mayfair flat. “Um…I’m going for a drive.”
“One that requires three cases of wine?” Aziraphale pointed at the crates he had just loaded.
“It might be a really long drive.” He didn’t want to explain, so he tried turning the tables. “What are you doing here?”
“I came over to see if you wanted to go to breakfast. Your telephone does not appear to be working.”
Oops. He had cancelled the landline service yesterday, as he expected to be gone awhile, and his old-fashioned Angel never used his mobile number. “Sorry.”
Aziraphale put his hands on his hips. “Were you actually planning to leave town for a long outing without telling me?”
He had, in fact, been planning exactly that, although he was going to call in a day or two to let him know. After escaping. “Sorry. Yeah, um, I just wanted to get away for a bit.” Crowley sighed. He was going to have to explain after all, judging by the furrowed brow and pouty lips he was currently looking at. “I was going to tell you! Just, you know, later.”
“I am not chuffed. Tell me now, please. Why are you running off?”
Crowley chewed on his lower lip, shuffled his feet, looked left, right, up, down…and finally just threw his arms up and said, “Because of feelings! Okay?”
“Feelings,” Aziraphale repeated. “I see. Yes, you do tend to express those in extravagant ways. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Not really.”
“Try.”
Crowley blew out a long breath. “Fine.” He gestured between them. “It’s about this. You and me. And them, too.” He pointed up and then down. “It’s about everything! All the changes. Armageddon cock up, thwarted punishments, getting tossed out of Heaven and Hell. Free to do whatever we want and not knowing what that is. All the things that happened. It’s too much. I need to go for a long, long drive and think about stuff.”
“I see.” Aziraphale shook his head. “And did it not occur to you to find out first whether I might be having feelings of a similar nature? Hm? That perhaps I might like to go somewhere to have thoughts of my own?”
Damn. “No, no, no, no, no. You can’t come with me.” The whole point was to drive aimlessly all over the country in pursuit of solitary sorts of places where he could get out of the car and wander along lonely footpaths while stewing over his emotions all by himself.
“But I want to get away from the city, too.” Aziraphale pursed his lips. “Please? I don’t want to be left alone here. I need to sort out things in my mind, too. All the…well, everything you said. And as our relationship happens to be a big part of that, wouldn’t it be better if we sorted it all out together?”
Crowley thought that might possibly be the worst idea ever. And it might be the best thing to do, too. It could go either way, and how was he supposed to tell which way was best? Maybe being alone with all that wine wasn’t a good combination after all. And if he did figure out who he was now and what his purpose in this new world of theirs was and how his best and only friend fit in…perhaps it would be handy if Aziraphale was there when it happened.
On the other hand…oh, hell. He gave up. “Yeah, you may have a point.”
“Ah, good.” Aziraphale smiled and clapped his hands. “Can we get breakfast before we head out?”
“Sure.” Crowley opened the passenger door for him.
“And we need to stop at the bookshop, too. I’ll need to pack a few necessities.”
“Would that include a few hundred books?” Crowley slid behind the wheel.
“Don’t be silly. Several dozen ought to suffice.”
“Right. Got it.” With a sigh, he turned the key, put the Bentley in gear, and headed off towards Soho.
Maybe he ought to pack a few more cases of wine….
*
Aziraphale tried to relax as the scenery whizzed by at top speed, but the pounding rock music wasn’t helping, so he took matters into his angelic hands and informed the Bentley quite firmly that he wished to listen to his favorite classical pieces instead.
As We Will Rock You faded away and the strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata played, Crowley gasped and said, “What did you just do?”
“I fixed the music. It’s more relaxing, especially at the excessive speed you are driving.”
“But…but…my car doesn’t play classical music! Ever!”
“Well, it does now. Where exactly, may I ask, are we going?” When they’d left London, Crowley had simply asked his mobile which route out of the city had the least traffic, and went that way, which happened to be to the west. “Do you have any sort of destination in mind?”
“Nope.”
“And how long do you plan to drive too fast without stopping, may I ask?”
“As long as I feel like it. Want me to turn around and take you back to Soho?”
Aziraphale took the hint and decided to break into the provisions he had brought. He was soon nibbling away at a tin of shortbread biscuits with one hand, while holding a thermos of hot cocoa in the other, from which he took soothing sips. Ah…much better.
He listened to the music, and watched road signs for the various towns they were passing flash by. Camberley. Fleet. Hook. Basingstoke. Where would they wind up? Crowley surely had to stop somewhere. They hadn’t been on the road all that long yet, though, and Aziraphale had a feeling it would be many hours before this flight from London came to rest.
“I need to go for a long, long drive and think about stuff.”
Indeed. Everything had changed. I’ve changed…what was he now, exactly? What kind of being was an angel without heaven? Retired? Redundant? Did the Great Plan for the Earth, for Heaven, for the entire universe simply continue to unfold without regard to his existence within it…on a journey beyond the infinite? Would he just keep sailing on this little planet through oceans of stars, during which he was mere baggage, like those trunks being loaded onto the great ships he had once crossed the seas upon, decades ago…packed away with the things not of use…was he like that now?
Not wanted on voyage...
Aziraphale sighed, and took a sip of cocoa. Then he held out the tin. “Would you like a shortbread biscuit, my dear?”
“Ta.” Crowley plucked one out. He ate it in two bites. “Mm. Did you bring any tea?”
“I only have this cocoa, I’m afraid. The tea things are stowed away. Would you like a sip?” He proffered the thermos.
Crowley actually slowed the car to a reasonable speed before taking the thermos. He took several sips and then handed it back. “Thanks, Angel.” Then the Bentley sped up again, though not quite as fast. “I’ll stop somewhere for lunch. Just let me know when you want to eat, okay?”
“These biscuits should hold me for a while.”
They drove on, past the turn off to Southampton, and on towards Salisbury and Stonehenge. They had been to the great henge in ancient times, as they had been to so many places here in Britain which were now so old that intimate knowledge of them had been lost to the present inhabitants. They had been here such a long time, and had shared so many adventures in this ever-changing land. They had spent thousands of years wandering the whole Earth, yet somehow this rather small, and often damp island had become a kind of home. Their home together, a place where they had grown closer, a place where they had formed an Arrangement which drew them away from Heaven and Hell and into each other’s orbit more and more as the centuries rolled by.
And who are we now? With Heaven and Hell out of the picture, what were they to each other? It felt as if everything which had been tight within him was now loosened. For despite the Arrangement, despite their friendship and the trust between them, Aziraphale had never, ever breathed the same air freely with Crowley. Always, even when sharing food or drink, when laughing together, when walking through a park on a warm summer day, even when talking and smiling or simply sharing the same space in companionable silence, always, in spite of a brush of fingertips, a light touch on an arm, even while holding hands, that invisible tether binding him to Heaven would make itself felt, constricting his angelic soul.
As he sat here in the Bentley with Crowley, breathing the same air freely, Aziraphale wondered what lay ahead for them, now that the tether had broken.
Freedom…to do what?
He finished another biscuit, and then put the tin away. He sipped his cocoa, and listened to his favorite music. The Bentley was now playing Bruch’s Scottish Fantasy, and Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s fingers on the wheel tapping along to the rhythm. Somehow, that simple movement sent a wave of fondness through him, along with a distinct feeling that they were attuned to one another in ways far beyond words.
We will figure everything out.
The road stretched out before them for miles and miles and miles.
We will get to wherever it is we need to be.
Someday.
*
They ate a pretty quiet lunch in Exeter, and then Crowley headed off again to the west with no idea of a stopping point. He supposed he could drive them all the way to Land’s End. Why not? They could go for a long walk there. Cliff top paths made for great views, and once they got away from the tourist site, the landscape of rocks and coves and seemingly endless water stretching out to the horizon should be perfect for reflection — or for what he had once heard someone refer to as “having thinky thoughts”. He liked that.
Having been around for literal eons, he had plenty of things to mull over.
He spotted a sign saying Penzance was a bit over a hundred miles away. The way he drove, they could make that in a little over an hour easily. Crowley liked Cornwall. He’d spent quite a lot of time there in the 1700s, sometimes doing his actual job, but mostly taking credit for the smuggling going on without having to do any work at all.
“Hey, Angel,” he said as he turned down the CD volume, “fancy visiting the Cornish coast?”
“Lovely place. North or south?”
“West. We can start at Land’s End for a hike, then find somewhere to spend the night. Maybe Penzance, or go up to St. Ives.”
“I spent a delightful week in St. Ives in the early 1800s. Beautiful beach. May we stop there this evening, after our stroll?”
“Sure.”
“The weather is quite good for walking. Are we going far?”
Crowley shrugged. “No idea. It’s like this whole trip – I’m just playing it by ear. More or less.”
“So you don’t have a clue where we are going to wind up each day, or how long this journey will last, or what we are going to do along the way?”
“Nope.” All he knew was that London had felt stifling. “I like being out of the city, though.”
“Ah, there I am in agreement. Too much hustle and bustle.”
Hustle and bustle? Crowley smiled. “Could be. It’s a great city, though. You couldn’t go too long without the restaurants and the museums and the theaters.”
“That is a point in its favor. As are the parks, and the concerts, and the bookshops. I only wish the clamorous crowds and traffic that come with big city attractions would be a bit less irksome.”
“Yeah, I hate the traffic.” This motorway was much more enjoyable to zip along. “It feels good to take a break. Just for ourselves.” He thought he had wanted to go off by himself, but the longer he drove, the more Crowley appreciated having company. The best company ever, in fact. “I’m glad you came along for the ride.”
“Well, someone has to hand you biscuits along the way.”
“Yup.”
“And adjust your musical selection.”
“I like Queen. And we’ve been listening to your music for hours.”
“We have, haven’t we?” With a quick movement, Aziraphale turned the CD player’s sound up again.
Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me…
“Enjoy your bebop as far as Penzance, my dear.”
It’s you, you’re all I see…
Ooh, you make me live—
Crowley tapped his fingers on the wheel. You’re the best friend that I ever had…been with you such a long time.
“I will,” he said. “Thanks, Angel.”
…my feelings are true
I really love you.
He smiled, and nodded to the beat as he drove on.
*
Clear skies and the heat of the sun on this late summer afternoon were very welcome, as it was rather breezy on the coastal path which led from Land’s End towards Sennen Cove. Aziraphale kept pace with Crowley’s loping strides, the trail just wide enough to walk side by side.
They were taking a short walk of just over a mile and a half. The views of the cliffs and coves and rolling waves were splendid all along the way.
“I haven’t been out anywhere this uninhabited for a very long time,” he said as they paused to admire a particularly striking cliff jutting into the sea. “I find it quite refreshing.”
“Our jobs were to bless or tempt humans,” Crowley replied. “Which meant going wherever they went, which meant civilization.”
“Yes. I rarely got assigned tasks in the more rural areas. Pity. There must still be, after all these centuries, amazing and wild landscapes which I have never seen.”
“We can visit them now. We can go anywhere we like, do whatever we please.”
“I have no idea what I wish to do, or where I may like to travel.” Aziraphale sighed as he watched a gull soaring over the cliff. ‘There has been so very much activity in my life on this Earth. Going hither and yon to do my miracles, kept busy by Heaven wherever I roamed, while trying to squeeze in what time I could for my own little indulgences.” His beloved books. His music. The many, many ways to enjoy food and drink. “I rarely even had time for sleeping, which I know we don’t technically require, but on occasion I do find it revivifying.” He knew Crowley had managed to sleep regularly because he had fewer personal interests to pursue. He didn’t spend time collecting or reading books, for the most part, nor did he consume fine meals as often as Aziraphale did, though drink was one of his prime entertainments.
I could enjoy sleeping now. How enticing that sounded. He turned to walk on, and as Crowley slid into place beside him, Aziraphale said, “The point is, I have spent thousands of years being terribly preoccupied with one thing or another, whether for work or for pleasure. There was hardly any time at all for going somewhere like this, away from all distractions, to fully enjoy the calmness and the beauty of nature. There was never enough time to reflect. There was always something waiting to be done, always something calling my attention.” He felt the warmth of the sun against his cheek, and the breeze ruffling his hair, and he drew in a deep breath of sea air. As he released it, he said, “I wish that I could find a way to be…to be simple.”
“Simple,” Crowley repeated. “I wonder what that would look like.”
“I wish that I knew.” He wondered if it would mean living differently, perhaps in a quieter place.
The path narrowed then as it skirted through a rocky area, and he fell behind Crowley for a while. The grassy, hilly terrain was littered with boulders, and the going was a bit rough at times. Then they made way for two hikers coming from the other direction, and as they paused there, one of them pointed to a side path, and told them it led to a must-see spot.
“It’s called Maen Castle, but there’s only jumbled rocks left. Great viewpoint, though, and it’s not far to go.”
Aziraphale thanked them, and he and Crowley turned along the indicated trail, which wound between more large stones before soon ending at the very edge of the land. From here they did, indeed, have fabulous views of the coastline’s rugged cliffs curving around them, with the ocean stretching out to a far horizon.
It was windier here, and he pulled his open coat flaps together. “What a stunning vista.”
“Not bad.” Crowley stood quite near, his shoulders hunched as he wrapped his arms around his chest. “Could do without these clouds, though.”
Aziraphale looked up. A large cumulus cloud had suddenly rolled in, blocking the sun. “There’s only the one. It ought to move along soon.”
Then he moved close, and draped his right arm around Crowley’s shoulders. Crowley instantly dropped his left arm to slide it around Aziraphale’s waist. They stood there, gazing out at the sea for several minutes, without saying a word. The gentle hold felt warm and utterly natural, and as he stood there, Aziraphale realized that this gesture, this closeness, felt absolutely simple.
His breaths slowed and deepened as a wave of calmness washed through him. What are we looking for, you and I?
Had they come on this journey, this search, this time and space away from the world they had known, just to look for each other?
Yes. That was what they were doing out here, in the wild, free places they had never spent enough time in together. They were on this path, this road, this escape from their previous lives, to be easy with one another in a way they had not been since before the Fall.
Aziraphale smiled as he looked at Crowley. “Do you know what I want?”
Crowley lifted one eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“I want to be ordinary.”
“Oh? Right.” Crowley returned his smile. “You know, that sounds really good to me.”
“It may take some time to figure out what that means.”
“Yeah, pretty sure it will. We’ll just keep going then, until we do.”
Aziraphale nodded. “To more wild, unfettered places, please. Shall we return to the main trail and continue on to the village?”
“Shouldn’t be too much farther. Maybe we can get tea there, and then head back to Land’s End.”
They disentangled themselves, and turned down the path to do just that.
*
The hotel room had one queen-sized bed. Well, there were an awful lot of tourists crowding the narrow, winding streets and wide expansive beach in St. Ives, and they didn’t have much choice. It was a minor miracle that they’d managed to get this room at all.
“I’m tired,” Crowley said. He’d had a long day, between the drive and the walk. They had avoided the crowds here by getting fish and chips takeaway for dinner, and then Aziraphale had parked himself in the room’s one chair to read while Crowley flung himself onto the bed to mindlessly surf the TV channels. It was late now. Late enough to sleep. He yawned and stretched his arms. “Think I’ll go to bed.”
Aziraphale looked up with a smile. “You seem to already be there.”
“Yup.” With a snap of his fingers, Crowley turned his street clothes into black satin pyjamas, his shoes vanishing into wherever miraculously conjured things went. He’d not ever thought about it before…hm. “I wonder if there’s a portal in Hell that all my old clothing pops through when I do that.”
“Intriguing question. And how do they pop into existence, for that matter?”
“Dunno. Laws of Earthly physics don’t apply, right?” How many millions of times had he just casually snapped his supernatural fingers to create something from nothing…or to make an object disappear, or to make something happen…or not happen…to freeze time itself, without ever once questioning how it all worked. “We’re very bizarre beings, aren’t we?”
Aziraphale closed his book. “We don’t think about it, because it’s innate to us to be the way we are.”
“Guess so. Every creature is just what it is, and doesn’t know any different. I mean, cats probably don’t go around wondering about the catness of being a cat, right?” Crowley shook his head. Perhaps he shouldn’t try getting philosophical when he was this sleepy. He yawned again. “Are you staying up?” he asked as easily as he could manage, trying to pay no attention to the tingling anticipation of sharing a bed with his dearest friend.
Because Aziraphale had lugged in a suitcase earlier, and from it he had dug out a book, and he had also taken out some underclothes and socks — for unlike Crowley, he was not in the habit of miracling his things into and out of existence, preferring to wear real human garments bought from actual shops. He had placed all his items neatly on top of a dresser, and one of those items was a pair of tartan pyjamas.
Aziraphale set the book aside. He pulled out his pocket watch. “Ah. It is getting late, I see.” He glanced at the bed, then at the dresser, then back to the bed. “Do you want to share, or not? I can sleep sitting up in this chair quite easily.”
Crowley shifted over to one side. “Come to bed, Angel.” He felt an odd prickling sensation of heat in his cheeks. Damn, was he actually blushing?
“Very well, my dear.” Aziraphale stood and went to the dresser. “I’ll just get changed, won’t take long.”
Crowley turned off the TV and put the remote on the nightstand next to his sunglasses and car key. Then he got up to pull the bedcovers back, and slid in again beneath them, stretching out full length. He waited while staring intently at the ceiling.
Soon the bed dipped as Aziraphale climbed in right beside him. “This is cozy. Could you turn off that light, please?”
Crowley turned off the bedside lamp. The window still let in some shadowy flickers of light from the street outside, though thankfully, not much noise — only the muffled sound of an occasional car driving past. Nothing like the night sounds of London. Even in his penthouse flat, Crowley often heard sirens or honking horns, and the bookshop was far worse, being right on the street, with traffic and people passing it all day and often all night long.
What would it be like to live somewhere quieter?
“It’s so very peaceful here,” Aziraphale said, as if reading his mind. “I do not have that much practice in sleeping, but it should be much easier without all the hubbub and clamor of Soho.”
“I was thinking about that, too. How much quieter it is.”
They lay there in silence for a little while, and Crowley let the shadows settle around him. He listened to slow, deep breaths beside him, and found himself matching their steady pace. There had never been this much warmth in his bed in Mayfair…nor this kind of comfort. His nerves settled, too, as those tingling flutters of expectation ebbed in the reality of being simple…just two friends who had only ever wanted to stay together, and who were together now. As it should be. As it needed to be forever more.
“Aziraphale?” he said softly. “Would you mind if I put an arm around you?”
“Not at all. I would like that very much.”
Crowley turned onto his side, inching closer, until he was nearly off his own pillow, just at the very edge. Aziraphale turned a little, too, and even in the dim light, Crowley could see the affection in his eyes as they gazed at each other, their heads mere inches apart.
He tentatively touched Aziraphale’s shoulder, and then stroked it lightly, before drawing his hand down to that broad chest, and then he wrapped his arm around his friend’s waist. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” Aziraphale put a hand against Crowley’s chest, and then let his arm rest there. “I have held so great a love for you for too long outside of the light.” He nestled closer still. “It is no longer dark where I am.”
The stars still shine where we are… Crowley quivered, and closed his eyes, and sighed as the unfulfilled yearning of uncountable years faded away into nothing. A hundred million memories of being forced to walk away from love faded, too, and he wanted to shout, to cry out, to roar his freedom to the whole world — yet in these quiet shadows, all he did was hold on a little tighter to his whole world, and whisper, “I love you, Aziraphale. Always, always, always.”
It was enough. It was, after all, everything.
“I love you too.” Aziraphale’s lips brushed Crowley’s forehead.
He kissed his Angel’s cheek. “Remind me to take you on long road trips that stop in busy places with limited hotel bed choices more often, okay?”
“I’m very pleased with this room. Are we heading farther tomorrow?”
“Yeah…I’m still thinking about some things.” Where to live, how to live, what to do now that they were essentially retired…he definitely needed more time, and more distance from his old familiar territory to sort everything out. “Don’t want to go back to London yet. Might just fall right back into old habits there, and I don’t know about you, but that won’t work for me anymore. I don’t have a bookshop to run. I’m not really sure what my life looks like without Hell, to be honest.” He was utterly elated to escape from that demonic way of being, yet had no idea what to replace it with. He laughed lightly. “Maybe I ought to go find a new job.”
Aziraphale laughed, too. “I’m afraid employers usually want to know who you worked for previously, and that would raise a few eyebrows.”
“Yeah…might be good for a bit of fun. ‘I’ve got thousands of years of experience tempting people, so this advertising gig is right up my alley.’”
“Seems fitting. Though I’m fairly certain you wouldn’t care for the hours.”
“No, sitting around in an office all day five days a week isn’t exactly my thing.”
“Amusing hypotheticals aside, I do appreciate your situation. I imagine you feel somewhat unmoored.”
That sounded about right. Cast adrift on Earth, which was where he wanted to be, mind, but without a clue where to find the best harbor. “I’ll keep pondering. And keep driving about, unless you’re not keen?”
“I have some more pondering to do, too.”
“Oh?” It occurred to Crowley then that losing the Heaven he had wanted so hard to believe in must have left Aziraphale just as much at sea. He had his books, yes, but what else did he need to fill in the empty spaces, where once he had been busy doing good deeds? “Want to come with me to the job center?”
“I know you’re teasing, but it is a question for both of us. How to live. How to be retired, which I suppose comes closest to our status.”
“Humans take up hobbies. Or go on cruise ships a lot. Or move in with their children or grandchildren and drive them nuts.”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about annoying our relatives. As for cruise ships, I shall pass, having been on the great liners of the 1930s. Nothing today can possibly compare to that grandeur. Which leaves hobbies. Do you have any interest in knitting or pottery or golf?”
“Nope. What about gardening? I like plants.”
“Ah, now that sounds more promising.”
Crowley wondered if they could create an amazing garden together somewhere. Probably not in London, though. “Let’s revisit that thought later, Angel.” He yawned. “I need my beauty sleep.”
“Of course you do. Goodnight, my dear.”
“Goodnight, Angel.”
They relaxed within their loose embrace, and Crowley let go of the day bit by bit as his mind drifted into slumber. It felt so easy to be with Aziraphale like this, warm and loving in each other’s arms.
This, at least, was one part of the future which stood clear and strong, this love they shared. Whatever else lay ahead would be fine, for everything they faced from now on would be faced together.
The journey they were currently on wasn’t over yet. It had only just started. They had more to talk about. The past still hovered over them both, in one way or another. They would drive on, just to keep looking for the unknown spaces, just to find something new along the way – a new kind of friendship that was open and free.
As sleep claimed him, Crowley fell into that darkness with total joy in his heart for the first time in nearly forever.
*
The ruins of Dolwyddelan Castle stood on a knoll overlooking a rugged, hilly landscape. Only the keep and the west gate remained.
“I was here once,” Aziraphale said as he and Crowley stood by the towering keep. “Late thirteenth century. Edward Longshanks captured it after a siege. I had been working throughout Wales off and on for some years, doing what miracles I could to try staving off the English invaders. Alas, to no avail.”
“Sorry,” Crowley replied. “Hell chose England’s side.”
They had been on quite a journey on this second day. After breakfast in St. Ives, they drove east back to Exeter, and then northward into Wales, where they stopped in Hay-on-Wye, which Aziraphale had suggested as a lunch place. He may possibly have had an ulterior motive in the choice…just a wee notion about visiting a few of the many bookshops there. Crowley hadn’t seemed to mind, letting him meander about for several hours, holding the bags of books for him with an indulgent grin.
Then the trip continued as they drove farther north, no particular destination in mind. It was quite late in the afternoon when a road sign in Snowdonia piqued their interest, and they pulled off to visit a waterfall, which was lovely but had too many tourists about. They wanted quiet places. Not easy to find on a brilliantly sunny day at the very end of August.
So they drove on, and not much farther north they came upon the castle ruins. Only two other people were wandering the knoll at five o’clock, and they left not long after Crowley and Aziraphale arrived, leaving the place to themselves.
“Silly, really, the way Heaven would choose a side in one of the many human conflicts, seemingly at random much of the time, and then Hell would take the opposite side just on principle. It was rarely obvious which one had any true claim to being right.”
“Shades of gray,” Crowley replied. “And cancelling each other out, too. Totally pointless endeavors all round.”
“I would like to believe that my blessings and miracles did some genuine, lasting good here and there, from time to time.”
“They did. I’ve seen you doing countless miracles all on your own, that Heaven never even knew about. You did an astonishing amount of good, in spite of them.”
Aziraphale found the words eased his mind. “Thank you. Of course, although you have always been reluctant to admit such a thing, I know that you did a great deal of good here too, in spite of Hell.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m all warm and fuzzy on the inside.”
“Shush. I would not have remained your friend had you not cared about the Earth and its creatures. And you did. Yes, I know you did also cause them a lot of trouble and mischief along the way, or I should say, you showed them how to bring trouble upon themselves if they chose to. But you weren’t cruel. I’ve seen what other demons did to people. I am forever grateful that you chose not to join them.”
Crowley did not reply. They stood there a bit longer, just looking at the ragged hills stretching away, dotted with clumps of trees, with very little sign of human habitation. Then, in a silent agreement, they turned to walk back down the path to the nearby car park.
“Sometimes I wonder,” Crowley said as he climbed into the Bentley, “why Hell let me stay here. Other demons just popped up, did their tempting or whatever, and popped right back down again.”
“I have pondered that question, too.” Aziraphale slid into the passenger seat. “No other angels were permanently stationed on Earth, to my knowledge. Heaven had regions which were overseen by various angels, but they didn’t live there all the time, they merely ordered their underlings to do just what you said happened with Hell’s minions — they would pop down, do a blessing or a miracle, and then return. Most peculiar. I never asked why, for fear someone would realize it had all been some kind of mistake.” He shuddered at the thought.
Crowley pulled out his mobile and started poking at the screen. “Not a good idea to question Hell’s decisions, either. I was just happy no one seemed to care.”
“Indeed, we were very fortunate.” Aziraphale smiled. “Though I suppose it must have been part of the ineffable plan.”
“Uh huh. Sometimes I think God was just making things up as they went. Hey, there’s a room available at a place really close by. The Castle Hotel, and they have a restaurant.”
“That sounds perfect.”
The hotel turned out to be old-fashioned, and their room had a lovely four-poster bed. After lingering over dinner, they retired to it, with several bottles of merlot from Crowley’s wine supply.
There was no television set, and Aziraphale opted to forego reading this evening. And so he and Crowley wound up simply snuggled in bed in their pyjamas, wine glasses in hand, the bottles on the nightstand.
“I enjoyed the long drive today,” Aziraphale said. “And thank you again for stopping at the book town for me. I haven’t been there in ages.”
“‘Course. You can never have enough books. I mean that literally,”
“Well, yes…perhaps I may have gone a trifle overboard with my purchases today, but I am certain they are all quite necessary to my happiness.”
“You only stopped because the car was stuffed to the gills. Boot’s completely full, and I can barely see over the bags in the back seat.”
“I didn’t think you’d mind, as you rarely check the rearview mirror.”
“Point taken.” Crowley smiled. “I’m only teasing for form’s sake. If you’re happy, I’m happy, no matter what you do.”
“I can’t help it, I’m afraid. Books are such perfect little worlds in themselves. Perhaps you can join me in my obsession in our retirement. You have plenty of time to read now.”
“Not happening. I did try, you know, from time to time. Was okay, but not something I needed.”
Such a pity he couldn’t share his love of books with Crowley. Aziraphale sipped his wine, glad that at least they both enjoyed restaurant outings, and were both fond of fine vintages. As they drank quietly together, he considered what else they had in common, what else they might share in their new life.
Art? Music? Theater? Strolls in a park? But what if they decided to leave London for a less active place…with fewer such amenities? For although they had been away from the city just two days, Aziraphale had a feeling this respite from London would last much longer. As much as he adored the city for its culture and its parks and its food, he was very aware of how strongly the noise and the busyness and the crowds wore on him.
They would never know if there was a better way to dwell on this Earth, he supposed, if they never tried something different.
They finished one bottle, and moved on to the second. Crowley got his mobile out, and as he poked at a map on the screen, they talked about possible routes for the morrow.
“North has been good so far,” Crowley said. “Don’t fancy going into any big cities, though. Got Liverpool and Manchester coming up. And hugging the coast more won’t work…weather is supposed to be just as warm and sunny as it has been, and the beaches will be thronged.”
“The entire Lake District is probably right out as well, then.” Aziraphale squinted at the tiny screen. “What about the Yorkshire Dales…or farther to the Pennines…or…what’s above that?”
“Hadrian’s Wall.”
“Oh! I should like to see that again! I watched parts of it being constructed, you know.”
“Me, too. It was damp.”
“Mm hm. Well, you said it would be sunny and warm tomorrow, so why don’t we go for a bit of a walk along the old ruins?” That ought to be another nice, peaceful place to spend some time.
“Okay. Looks like we could start near Carlisle. I could get us there by eleven or noonish.”
“Ah, good. We can have lunch in the city before heading off on our postprandial constitutional. What else is around the area? We ought to take advantage of this glorious weather as much as possible. Is there any place you’d like to go?” Crowley had let him go to Hay-on-Wye, and it was only fair to see something more to his dear friend’s liking. “Any place at all which takes your fancy, I am more than happy to oblige. What do you want to look at?”
“Um…I could look for a garden maybe, or a natural area…or…oh, hey.” Crowley stared intently at the screen. “Or maybe we can look at stars.”
“Stars? Is there an observatory?”
“Even better. There’s a dark sky area. About sixty miles northwards or so from Carlisle, there’s a place called Galloway Forest Park, and it’s a designated dark sky viewing spot. Little to no light pollution, and the forecast calls for clear weather all day and night tomorrow. We could go stargazing there.”
“Oh, my.” There was rarely a chance to see anything much of the starry heavens in London. “Yes, we must go there.”
“Good. How about that, we’ve got an actual plan for once. Breakfast at the hotel, drive to Carlisle, lunch, long walk along Hadrian’s Wall, then on up to Scotland for dinner somewhere or other before heading to Galloway Forest for the night.” Crowley put the mobile away. “How do you feel about camping out?”
“You mean with sleeping bags and such? I suppose I could manage.” It had been many centuries since Aziraphale had slept out of doors, but if the weather did hold and was warm enough, it ought to be fine for one night. “I take it you want to stay at this dark sky spot the whole night?”
“That’s the idea. We can pick up supplies in Carlisle.”
“There’s no room to put anything, remember?”
“Oh, right. Huh.”
“Unless we miracle up a luggage rack, that is.”
Crowley grimaced. “You want me to deface my beloved Bentley with an ugly luggage rack?”
“It would be expedient, and you can get rid of it afterwards.”
“No.” Crowley remained adamant. “I’m not doing that to her. When we get to the park, I’ll just use a miracle to snap whatever we need into existence, just like my clothes. You know, from wherever all that stuff comes from.” He frowned. “Wonder where it does come from?” He took a long drink. “Wonder if it’s more like the stuff already exists somewhere else on Earth, and what I’m actually doing when I snap my fingers and think, ‘I need a new outfit’, is that a pair of skinny black jeans suddenly disappears from a shop and reappears on my legs?”
“Interesting notion.” Aziraphale had no idea how miracles worked. It was rather like a cat pondering the notion of catness all over again. One didn’t question the sudden appearance of food in a bowl after a bout of yowling. It just showed up. “For that matter, where do you imagine the food and drink we consume goes?” He poked at his own abdomen. “It feels full and satisfied for a time, and then seems to dissipate completely somehow without ever having to be eliminated via human toilet facilities.”
“I had to use one once,” Crowley said.
“Really?” Aziraphale raised both eyebrows in surprise. “Why? And when?”
“Early 19th century…1830s or so? I’d been napping too long, couple of years straight, in fact. Something went haywire with the corporation, and I had to get up to use the loo. Felt incredibly weird.”
“I should think so. That ought to have taught you not to overindulge in sleep, but I recall that you spent a good portion of that century dozing away.”
Crowley shrugged. “The Victorians bored me. Sorry. The Edwardians were much more fun.”
“If you say so. I enjoyed that century.” He paused. “For the most part.” He had certainly not been happy during the long decades following that blasted argument over the holy water. “Not all of it was good.” He lay a hand on Crowley’s arm. “Not the latter part.” He gave the arm a light squeeze. “I do regret not making amends a great deal sooner.”
“I could have done the same. No point thinking about it anymore, Angel.”
“I suppose not.” After all, as painful as that separation had been, they had made amends, as they always did. “Well, do try to abstain from any excessive ‘naps’ in future, please.”
“If I don't get bored, I won’t.”
“Ah, yes. We’ll need to work on that.”
“I’m not going to take up knitting, Angel.”
“Neither am I. Stargazing should be entertaining. We could do more of it, if we lived closer to one of those dark sky areas. Are there any farther south, nearer London?”
“Don’t know.” Crowley picked up his mobile and poked about some more. “Looks like the closest one is in the South Downs.”
“Gosh. That’s a lovely place. I’ve been to Chawton quite a few times. Haven’t traveled there in many years, though.”
“We should go check it out, when we’re done traipsing around up here.”
“Yes, I’d like that. By the way, so long as we are traipsing around in the north, may we stop in Edinburgh?”
“Not if the Festival is on. I’m not into crowds or sticking around cities on this trip.”
“The Festival ended yesterday. I haven’t been up there in over ten years, and I wish to see if my favorite restaurant is still around. We can just go for a meal, and then make our escape.” He hesitated, but then said, “It would make me very happy.”
“Oh, yeah?” Crowley grinned. “Is that how this is going to work? Because I said whatever made you happy made me happy, I get to do whatever your angelic heart desires?”
“It’s mutual, my dear. Gazing at the stars while wrapped in a sleeping bag out in the open will make you happy, thus I shall come along.”
“You’ll like it, too. I’ll keep you warm.”
Aziraphale smiled at the image that brought to mind. “Double sleeping bag?”
“Yup.”
“Fine. You might like the restaurant in Edinburgh, too. They made the most scrumptious Devil’s Food Cake.” He knew it was one of Crowley’s favorite treats.
“Fine.” Crowley set his phone on the night stand, and picked up his glass. He raised it in a toast. “To keeping each other happy.”
Aziraphale clinked his glass against it. “To best friends.”
They both drank deeply.
*
Crowley mostly drove the speed limit on the way to Carlisle, and Aziraphale let him listen to Queen by way of gratitude, and then Crowley let him listen to classical music by way of thanks for that consideration. As best friends did.
They arrived by lunch time, and after a solid lunch, they headed off on their walk along the Hadrian’s Wall path. They passed people who were hiking the opposite way, but hardly anyone was going east, and they had long stretches to themselves. The summery weather continued to be splendid, and Crowley basked in the sun’s warmth as they strolled for quite a few miles, enjoying the expansive views.
This had been a bustling place in Roman times, with large forts along the way which had fallen into decay and ruin ages ago, as had so much of the world they had known. He could, he supposed, indulge in melancholy thoughts about the inevitable passage of time and the transience of all things, but under this clear blue sky and this perfect warmth, with his best friend at his side, Crowley shooed such pensiveness away. New things had risen in the place of the old, after all, many of them much better, more comfortable things. There was a great deal to be said for progress, especially when it brought central heating and electric lights with it.
“I like it out here,” he said as he kicked a random pebble down the trail. “It’s peaceful.”
“I am having a lovely time, as well.” Aziraphale paused to examine a remnant of the old wall, brushing his fingers over the stones. “I do like old things.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Antiques, old clothes, old books. “You’re keen on keeping a bit of the past around you.”
“You have souvenirs.”
“Just a few special ones. Not an entire museum’s worth.”
“Well, yes, I take your point. Perhaps I have been just a little too enthusiastic about my collections. But each item is also a memory of something which pleased me at one time or another, in one way or another. The bookshop’s clutter has become a bit overwhelming, though, I must admit.”
They walked on, and just as Crowley was wondering if Aziraphale could ever leave London for a more peaceful place like this, could actually let the bookshop go, could somehow trim down that massive collection into something that would fit in, say, a country cottage, he heard a deep sigh.
“It would be a job to move it, I dare say.”
“Move it?” Crowley gasped. He halted, putting his hand on Aziraphale’s arm. “Seriously? I know we’ve been hinting about going somewhere quieter, but are you serious?”
“I am. Are you?”
“I’m not sure. That’s a huge change.”
“Ah, but it’s not an irrevocable change. We could test out a new home, and if we don’t like it, we can go back.”
“Oh.” That rather obvious suggestion had not occurred to Crowley. “I feel a bit dim. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Aziraphale smiled. “In fact, perhaps that would make the whole issue of the bookshop easier, if we just went somewhere for a while — a few months or so, without moving everything in it. There’s no point lugging all that stuff about until we’re certain it’s the right move. All I really need for a few months is a box or two of books.” His brow furrowed. “Well, maybe six or seven…big boxes.”
Crowley laughed. “Yeah, I’ll see about getting a trailer to hitch up to the Bentley for them.”
“Don’t be silly. I am capable of restraint.” Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I think.”
As the notion of a trial run at living somewhere else, with the bookshop kept as a backup, slowly filtered through Crowley’s mind, a sudden realization dawned. He felt ever so chuffed about it, too, after feeling so stupid earlier. “Hey, Mr. Clever Angel, guess what I just realized?”
Aziraphale raised a single eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
Crowley just grinned, and said, “Who says we can only have one place to live, hm? It’s not London versus the countryside at all. We can have both. What’s to stop us from getting our quiet cottage with a garden to putter about in and from keeping the bookshop to stay in whenever we’re missing the city’s attractions? Well?” He felt quite proud of himself.
“Oh! Oh, my goodness, now I feel rather dim. That’s perfect!”
“Yup.”
With a quick movement, Aziraphale pulled him into a hug. “Let’s do it.”
Crowley wrapped his arms around him, feeling great joy in this simple act, for it was so spontaneous, and so free. No hesitation, no constraints. They could do this now. They could express their love without fear, and it felt so amazing. “We’ll do it,” he agreed as he kissed Aziraphale’s forehead. “I’m looking forward to puttering around a garden with you.”
Aziraphale brushed his lips across Crowley’s cheek, and then he drew back a little, both eyebrows raised. “May I ask…have you ever kissed anyone…I mean a proper kiss…on the mouth?”
“No.” Crowley let go just long enough to slide his sunglasses off and tuck them away. “Not yet…”
“Neither have I. Would you care to rectify that oversight?”
Crowley glanced along the path in both directions, and didn’t see anyone anywhere close, and then realized he didn’t care if anyone saw them. “I’m ready to rectify.” He had only ever seen people kissing — in real life, and on movie screens — but the principle looked straightforward. Lips met lips, and pressed together…and sometimes opened, and sometimes tongues thrust against one another, and a kiss could be gentle or fierce, slow or frantic, and damn, he was thinking about this too much when all he wanted to do was to feel —
And then Aziraphale simply drew him in closer, and touched his lips with his own.
Crowley closed his eyes as he fell into that caress. We can do anything now…we are so unbound… He kissed Aziraphale, and felt a shivery tingle along his spine, and he felt softness and strength within those perfect lips, and he pressed against and into them, and he felt a yearning deep within, a yearning to surrender…and he did…and he felt his body sway and push into Aziraphale’s solidity as a flush of heat filled his chest, his abdomen, his face, all so very warm of a sudden, so wanting, and the world still existed around them but he barely knew it, only the softest breeze against his cheek, and Aziraphale kissed him so tenderly, at least to begin with…and oh, it was a touch unlike any other, it was the deliverance of a hope long thought lost in the stars.
He felt restored within that joining. They belonged to each other. They kissed again and again, lips parting breathlessly only to meet once more. Then Aziraphale grasped him more tightly as his mouth opened, as the gentleness fled, and the fervency increased, tongues thrusting, seeking, heat rising…Crowley gasped as his whole body responded, needing more, wanting every touch that was possible between them, and he clutched at Aziraphale’s waist, and then his hip, and it was too much then, and he felt Aziraphale’s fingers twisting through his hair, and heard him moan, and it was too much and not enough, never enough to satisfy the longing for connection…Crowley wanted all the feeling of Aziraphale’s touch upon his body, he wanted everything which had been denied to them, but it was far, far too overwhelming, and he broke away then with deep ragged breaths, and he opened his eyes to see Aziraphale’s flushed cheeks and bright gaze, and he laughed in joy, and then gasped again, struggling to control himself as his best friend relaxed against him, laughing now too, a hand on Crowley’s chest, and tears in his eyes.
When they finally calmed down, Aziraphale said, “I love you beyond reason. I want to do that again. And again. And then a million times more.” Then he smiled as he wiped a hand over his damp cheeks. “Only not on a public footpath, please.”
Several loud barks sounded. Crowley pulled out of their embrace and looked down the path to see two people striding towards them, a large dog bounding in front. “Yeah, good idea.”
“Perhaps we ought to head back to Carlisle now.” Aziraphale straightened his bow tie. “Yes?”
“Yeah, we still have another drive ahead of us. To a dark sky park in Scotland, remember?”
“Ah, of course.”
“Unless you want to head back to London—”
“No, not just yet. I think we ought to go and look at your stars first.”
“Okay, I’m good with that.”
They turned around and walked back towards the city, and as they strolled along in mostly companionable silence, Crowley had a lot of thinky thoughts about where the more intimate part of their friendship was headed.
He had a feeling that whatever happened between them, it was going to be absolutely, perfectly simple — because that was what they needed to be with each other from now on.
*
Aziraphale lay on his back, cozily tucked into the double sleeping bag next to Crowley, who had snapped his fingers to bring it, and their pillows, into this place from wherever miraculous things came from.
After stopping for dinner at a cafe during the drive into Scotland, they had driven on to Galloway Forest Park. They found a marked viewing spot for stargazing – the flat, grassy top of a short hill, with dense stands of trees on all sides. They had it all to themselves, after Crowley used another miracle to “encourage” the occupants of three other cars to go somewhere else.
They shared a bottle of wine as dusk fell, and then settled down for the night. Although it had been a very warm day, the air cooled quickly after sunset, and as the first twinkling lights appeared in the sky, Aziraphale was glad of Crowley’s warmth.
The darkness here had a depth unlike any night over London. As he gazed at the brilliant stars, Aziraphale looked at ancient memories, and he felt an ancient pain. The only request he had ever made of his God was for mercy. After the Fall. For his friend…all he had wanted was just a touch of merciful grace. But it had not come.
The starlight was so beautiful. He had adored the stars, because his dearest friend in Heaven loved them so much. And then his friend was gone, and Aziraphale had not known what the light truly meant until that long night fell.
As he watched the dark heavens now, he reached for Crowley’s hand, and twined their fingers together. He had not known what he had truly cherished until he had lost it. But he did know what he cherished when he found it again. “What you helped to create is more beautiful than ever."
Crowley sighed. “I missed them. You can’t see the stars from Hell.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Not anyone’s fault but my own.”
Aziraphale pressed his hand. “It must have been wonderful, when you came to Earth, to see them again.”
“The storm clouds got in the way, that first night. But the second night the skies over the desert were totally clear and I could see everything. Millions of stars. Billions of stars…a grand river of light…yes. It was amazing.”
They lay quietly for a time, just gazing upward, just holding hands.
After a while, Crowley said softly, “Tell me something. Is there anything you miss about Heaven?”
Aziraphale wondered. It had only been a short time since he was “let go”, in a way, from his angelic duties, no longer welcome there. Not that he had spent much time in Heaven over the past six millennia on Earth. He had not missed it while he was here…did he miss anything about it from before?
He had been very lonely in Heaven, after the Great War and the Fall. He had focused on his tasks, working on the plans for Earth, with little to ease his sense of loss. The celestial harmonies which Heaven called “music” were formless and repetitive, and the ambrosia offered as sustenance was utterly bland. He did his duty, and spoke when needed, nothing more. He did enjoy seeing the astonishing creation of the new planet come into being, amazed at the variety of life forms, the beauty of the landscapes, and the exciting vision for the human race. And he was able to add his little part to those plans, carrying out the instructions with a sense of pride. But it was always tinged by melancholy, for he had no one close enough to share that pleasure with.
And afterwards…after all those long, dull years, when the Earth finally existed in reality, when he stepped onto that world in wonder, when he found his long-lost friend — changed, yet still his friend — after leaving Heaven to forge a kind of life among Earth’s people, while carefully keeping Crowley in his heart…well, then he had been wary of his former home, fearful of losing what he loved all over again.
He looked at the starry skies and the heavens, and he felt a release within his soul. “Do you know something? I don’t believe that I miss anything about Heaven at all.”
Crowley shifted onto his side, turning to Aziraphale. He let go of his hand, and slid his arm around Aziraphale’s waist. “Good. I don’t ever want you to feel unhappy. About anything.”
“Oh, really?” He smiled as he kissed the top of Crowley’s head. “In that case, I do have one small suggestion about the way you drive.”
“Ngk.”
“Idiot. You brought that on yourself.”
Crowley made a few groaning and grumbling noises. But then he said, “Fine.”
“Thank you. Now then, do you recall the sentiment I expressed earlier today when we stopped on our walk to engage in that rather exciting expression of intimacy?”
“Hm? Oh, you mean the kissing…what sentiment? What are you talking about?”
“I said that I wished to do it again. About a million more times, in fact. But not on a public footpath, and as it happens, we appear to be in a very quiet, isolated spot at the moment with little chance of discovery.”
“Ah.” Crowley snuggled even more tightly against him. “Got it.” Then his lips found Aziraphale’s in the darkness, and they kissed again, though more lightly this time, and not for as long. “Mmmm…that was nice.”
“Very nice.” With a little tremor in his chest, Aziraphale said, “I cannot help but wonder what other touches between us might feel good.”
“Oh?” Crowley sounded surprised. “That’s an intriguing idea. Been thinking about it, have you?”
“Yes, I have.” He had often enjoyed the feeling of touching Crowley, even if only in a fleeting caress of a hand on his chest, a light tap on the shoulder, an arm around his waist to steady him after drinking too much. And they had held hands, all too rarely, and that subtle communication had been very pleasing and full of promise. He pressed his hand against Crowley’s chest now, feeling the smooth satin beneath his fingertips. Why not have more? “I believe that our bodies are capable of experiencing every pleasure which real people enjoy…and I adore your body. You are very, very attractive, you know.”
He felt Crowley’s chest quiver. “So are you…you’re gorgeous….”
Aziraphale’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you. May I see all of you, please? It would be lovely to feel everything, don’t you think?”
“Um…okay…you’re in a sensual mood.” Crowley snapped his fingers, and the black satin pyjamas vanished.
“It is your own doing, my dear. I did not know how gratifying it could be to make full use of our senses in these bodies until the day you talked me into trying human food. I have never looked back.” Then he did his own little miracle to make his tartan pyjamas disappear. “Ah. That’s much better.”
He rolled onto his side, too, face to face. He couldn’t actually see anything in the dark, beneath the cover of the sleeping bag. But he could certainly feel Crowley, and the sensation of their naked bodies touching, and meeting fully, sent a shivery tingling through him. He massaged that lovely chest, running his fingers over soft hairs and strong muscles, feeling tiny tremors beneath his hand.
Crowley still had an arm around his waist, and began to stroke his lower back in smooth, gentle movements which made Aziraphale sigh, and press harder into the touch. Then he kissed Crowley once more, longer and more fully this time, and as they kissed they began to move against each other, hands now busy exploring every place they could reach. A pleasurable heat rose within Aziraphale, and he gasped when Crowley caressed his belly, and then his hip, and down his thigh…and oh, it felt so good to be touched with such tender strength.
He stopped kissing Crowley then, and ran his tongue along that long neck, pausing to briefly nip and suck here and there, along the jawline, down to the hollow of his throat, a kiss at the top of his chest…then back up to those lips once more for a more fervent exploration. At the same time, Aziraphale drew a hand down Crowley’s chest to his abdomen, stopping there to massage the line between belly and hip, and he heard a moaning sigh. We can do anything…and why not do everything they could for each other?
“Love me,” he breathed into Crowley’s ear. “I want to know you…”
And he did, as they made love in the dark, beneath a blanket of stars.
And it was beautiful.
They loved each other with aching tenderness at first, finding the places where a light stroke or gentle caress brought a sigh of delight. And then the passion built as they rocked together, and found the rhythm of pleasure between them, and suddenly there was a fiery tension within Aziraphale yearning for release. Tenderness gave way to enthusiastic ardor. He wanted to be inside Crowley then…and told him fervently what he wanted.
“Yes,” Crowley panted. “And hurry.”
They both turned and twisted in the confined space and then Crowley’s backside was presented to him like a gift, an invitation. “Please, Angel.” It was a cry of need, strained and desperate. “Please…”
Aziraphale thrust into him eagerly. And the satisfying of his urgent desire for completion did not take long — nor did Crowley’s, for even as Aziraphale took him from behind, one hand sliding along his hip as he pushed harder and deeper, at the same time he wrapped his other hand around Crowley’s member and pumped that hardness with just as much passion, and in mere moments they both released into climax with joint cries of joy.
They rode that wave of rapture for some time before collapsing, gasping as they rolled onto their backs together. Oh oh…glorious glorious love…
Aziraphale’s breaths slowed and deepened as the trembling undulations of pleasure ebbed away. What an amazing feeling this was. What an amazing way to love someone. He lay there for some time, just letting the sensations roll off his body in gentle cessation. Goodness…that had been…enlightening.
“I want to do that again,” Crowley said. “At least a million times.”
“Hm. That may not be enough.”
“I love you.”
“Yes, of course. I love you, too.” He brushed his lips across Crowley’s cheek. Then he felt a tiny shiver from the night air. “I’m afraid as much as I adore your body, though, it does seem to be growing colder out here.”
“Yeah, I know.” Crowley snapped his fingers, and both sets of pyjamas reappeared to miraculously clothe them. “Warmer now?”
Aziraphale curled up around him. “I am. Thank you.”
Crowley kissed his forehead. “Think I’ll get some sleep…you?”
“That would be good. You wore me out.”
“Um…that kind of worked both ways, Angel. In fact, you were unusually vigorous tonight.”
“I was in a mood.”
“I’m not complaining. Just making a note of it.” Crowley yawned. “Clean tired me out big time…”
“Hush. Go to sleep, then.” Aziraphale yawned, too. “Ah, there, see? I seem to be just as worn out by our bout of mutual gratification.”
“Extremely gratifying,” Crowley murmured.
“Um hm.” He nestled against him in a loose embrace. “I believe that I like this stargazing hobby.”
“Definitely going to do more of it.”
“Goodnight, my love.”
“Goodnight, Angel.”
Aziraphale closed his eyes, and fell into dreams about the wonder of faraway lights filling his night with love.
*
Crowley did like the Devil’s Food cake at Aziraphale’s favorite Edinburgh restaurant quite a lot. It was a good place for lunch, though they had no desire to spend more time in that lively city.
“Might as well head south again,” he suggested as they drove off after their meal. “Fancy going back by way of Northumberland? Lot less populated than the Midlands.”
“That sounds fine. I remember several fabulous castles there, though it has been a few centuries since I visited the area. Perhaps we could stop at a couple?”
More old things. “Sure.” Crowley headed southeast, paying attention to the speed limit the whole time.
They reached the majestic Bamburgh Castle about an hour and a half after leaving Edinburgh, but the car park was full, and neither of them wished to battle crowds of tourists, so they continued down the road a short way to the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle. There were only a handful of people about, and after parking the Bentley, they walked around the exterior of the ruined building before spotting a coastal path whose views beckoned.
Crowley checked his weather app. “Looks like our luck is running out. Says rain and possible thunderstorms coming soon. But we should have a good hour to explore first. Let’s have a walk.”
Aziraphale was keen, and they strode off towards the rocky beach. The trail hugged the shoreline as they walked north. The route was mostly flat in this low-lying landscape, and it was easy going. Once in a while they paused to look back at the castle, standing sentinel atop its lonely hill, a stony outcrop jutting into the North Sea.
It was still warm out, though banks of clouds could be seen in the distance, rolling in from the east. The breeze picked up as they went. After striding briskly along for around a mile, they came upon a wide sandy beach, and went off the path to walk along it. The surf crashed upon the shore as the wind picked up even more, and the clouds turned darker.
Crowley liked storm watching. He wanted a better view, though, so he suggested returning to the castle, to get higher up. By the time they reached it, the tourists had all gone, no doubt unwilling to brave the weather. That was fine by him.
“I’m going up,” he said when they went into the castle grounds. He spied the ancient stone staircase spiraling to the top of a tower. “Is that alright?”
Aziraphale nodded. “I’m game.”
It was late in the afternoon now, and the sun had all but disappeared behind the growing clouds. Crowley climbed up the curving steps, Aziraphale right behind. When they reached the top and looked out to the east, he knew they wouldn’t be able to stay long, for the thunderclouds were heading rapidly towards the coast. He wrapped his arms around his chest as the temperature dropped.
“Quite dramatic,” Aziraphale said, standing close beside him. “Mind your step, there’s a broken stone by the edge there.”
“I’m fine.” Crowley gazed out at the rocky escarpment beyond. As he watched the waves crash against the shore, he thought about falling. An image from eons ago flickered through his mind. A great fall, from a tremendous height.
He looked at Aziraphale, and thought about the casual lie he had told. It probably had not been believed, yet his friend had never questioned its truth. But he had no need to keep anything hidden anymore. There would not be any more secrets between them.
Crowley returned his gaze to the vista below and said, “You know, I didn’t really just saunter vaguely downward.”
Aziraphale stepped closer. “I know you didn’t.”
“Oh? You never let on.”
“No.” Aziraphale brushed his sleeve lightly. “When you told me that, I decided it might be best to let it go, because you wanted to believe that everything was fine. That studied nonchalance and even cockiness over the rebellion and the Fall made you feel better, so I let you keep hold of the illusion. And I thought that perhaps you also said it because you didn’t want me to believe that you had suffered.” He hesitated. “But I knew.”
“You weren’t at the same battle where I was cast down. You didn’t see it.”
“True. But I saw what happened to other rebels, including Lucifer.” Aziraphale shuddered. “I heard their screams.”
The clouds in the distance darkened even more, and as if on cue, they were torn by a flash of lightning. Crowley turned to Aziraphale, and studied his face, and he saw softness there, within gentle eyes. But he also saw sorrow within the tiny furrow between his brows. “I hurt you so much….” His voice hitched, his words choking on an eternity of regret. “I am so sorry to this day. You were my friend, and I left you.” He looked down at his feet, and then upward to the shadowy skies. “All these years, and I’ve never once asked how you felt…after the Fall.”
Aziraphale started to speak, halted, and then turned away. He walked off a few feet, stopped, and just stood there.
Crowley didn’t move. He watched, and waited. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a roll of thunder. Perfect weather for cathartic emotions. He smiled. How poetic. As if it had all been written out a long, long time ago, another act in an infinite play. Cue the lightning bolt…and the drenching rain.
I want to shelter him from the rain…it only seems fitting.
After an age, or maybe only a few minutes, Aziraphale turned around and walked back to him. His eyes were shining, and his cheeks were damp. He took a deep breath, and said in stuttering syllables, “I felt utterly abandoned. I missed you…so…so much.” He sniffled and wiped a hand over his eyes. “I missed your laughter and your joy and your exuberance. Heaven was never as bright without you. And I believed that it was forever, that feeling of being forlorn…I would never see you again. And it was forever, dammit. It was forever and forever and forever before I saw you again, such an endless time of loss. So long that I barely even knew who you were. Because you weren’t possible for me.” The tears fell now as he reached out. “You were gone.”
The first raindrops fell. Crowley pulled him into an embrace as he opened his wings, wrapping them both within their warmth and their protection.
“I never missed anything about Heaven,” he said as he cradled his beloved Angel. “Except you…only and ever you…” He stroked Aziraphale’s hair, and rocked them gently together, strong arms encircling one another, black feathers keeping the outer world at bay. “I loved you and I never meant to lose you…to lose my whole life…it tore me apart.” Despair was not merely a word in Hell. It was not just a feeling. Despair was the ever beating heart of Hell, seeping into every crack and corner, weaving around and through every fallen angel every minute of every hour of every infernal day until their very souls were enshrouded deeply within it.
And he had survived Hell. Because he had a memory of someone who loved him. “I kept you in my heart as best I could,” he whispered. “I held on to you…even in the darkest night, even after all the endless years without a shred of hope of ever seeing you again, I held on to love. It was the only thing that kept me sane down there. Just one, tiny, sliver of light called Aziraphale to keep me strong enough to endure the dark.”
“I thought you must have forgotten me. On the wall of Eden. I wanted to hold you just as we are doing now…but you were…different then, and I didn’t know what to do.”
I’m not the angel you knew…. “I know. We were too long apart. But I still loved you.”
Aziraphale’s warm breath tickled his cheek. “Time heals, I’ve heard.”
“Does it?” Crowley smiled softly. “Or is that an illusion, and all it really does is simply paper over the cracks until they hurt just a little less than before, day by day?”
“Possibly.”
“Because I can still feel them. The cracks are still there, deep down.”
“Yes, I suppose they must be, because I feel them, too.”
Soft feathers rustled in the oncoming wind of the storm. Crowley nestled his head against Aziraphale’s, breathing in all the familiarity of him, holding onto the friend he had loved in Heaven. A friend he had lost from his own fateful choice, and who he had found once more against all expectation — changed, yes — how could it be otherwise? Yet he found an angel still offering the hand of friendship, a wing above his head, a tentative smile, a brightness which still lit the way back to love.
Aziraphale’s lips brushed his cheek. “I do know that we are both different from who we were in Heaven. I know we’ve both changed. I know that my heart will never be entirely free from the pain of that loss. But we are also still here, and we are here together, and we are free. And I know that I love you, here in this place, at this time, and I wish to be bound to you forever.”
“We changed…but…I think, since the day we thwarted Heaven’s plans together, and finally got away from Heaven and Hell…I think we’ve been coming home again. To who and what we were before — not exactly the same, just…I don’t know. Just more like ourselves. The way we were meant to be with each other. Does that make any sense?”
“It does. Especially these past few days, on this escape from London…we were getting away from all that the city reminded us of, centuries of pretending we weren’t friends. In these quiet places we’ve traveled, I have felt more and more at peace. And more, as you say, myself. Not the angel who ran a bookshop which was also a heavenly embassy. Not the person who grew anxious whenever we met at the park or for a meal. I have been shedding the facade of dutiful angel, and I have been finding, underneath, the old friend who loves you.”
“That’s it exactly.” Crowley held the friend he had met in the stars. “And I think it’s time for us to go find a new home together. Yes?”
“Absolutely. And we ought to start immediately, before that thunderstorm knocks us off this tower!”
Crowley grinned. “Don’t worry. I’d never let you fall. Come on, let’s get out of here!”
He put his wings away and they scurried down the winding stairs, and rushed out of the castle grounds, reaching the car park as a boom of thunder crashed overhead. They scrambled into the Bentley, and Crowley tore along the road, quite certain his passenger wouldn’t complain about speeding as they outraced the storm.
Aziraphale didn’t say a single word.
*
EPILOGUE: THE FOLLOWING SPRING
“Do we really need this much oregano?” Aziraphale handed another small starter pot to Crowley.
“Yup. I love those Italian dishes you keep making, so we need lots of oregano.”
“Ah. Very well.”
They knelt by the herb bed in the garden of their cottage, planting it out with the oregano as well as thyme, rosemary, dill, basil, and chives. That morning had been a bit cool, but this afternoon the clouds went somewhere else, allowing brilliant sunshine to warm them as they worked.
Aziraphale adored their cottage, and the new life they had made for themselves here in the South Downs. He enjoyed the meals they cooked together, and the walks they took along the coastal trails, and the quiet evenings on the sofa together. He adored the many ways they showed their love, in words or by deeds, and by little touches here and there, now and then…and he had become quite fond of their more physical expressions of intimacy. They had both become especially enamored of expressing them in the cottage’s extra large shower and its deep soaking tub.
“I cannot wait until we harvest our first herbs and vegetables,” Aziraphale said as they continued planting out the oregano. “Cooking will be so much more exciting then.”
“We’re going to have a lot of flowers, too, to decorate the table.” Crowley smiled as he took another plant pot. “All very domestic of us, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed.” Aziraphale returned the smile. “All very domestic, quiet, and peaceful. I do hope you don’t mind too much.”
As Crowley dug a hole, and tapped out the plant from its pot, he said, “Angel, I have never been happier.” He popped the oregano start into the hole, and pushed dirt snugly around it.
“That’s the last one.”
“Ah, good.” Crowley rose, brushing off his jeans. He held out a hand to help Aziraphale up. “And what about you? Is this still better than London?”
They had kept the bookshop in Soho, as planned. Aziraphale had put up a “Permanently Closed” sign, and they had remodeled the interior to make a cozier home away from home for their visits. He made room by moving several thousand of his favorite books to the lovely library and study here in their cottage.
They had driven up to London for long weekends at least once a month, and he did not feel deprived of the city’s attractions in the slightest. “It is better. This is the best place I have ever lived.”
“Good to know.”
When Crowley took off his gardening gloves, Aziraphale reached out to take his hand. “Because this is the first place I have ever lived with the one I love.”
“Oh…”
“And there could not be any better place than that.” He pulled Crowley to him, embracing not only his love and his lover, his truest friend and his most cherished companion, but also the angel he had known, and the demon he had known, and most of all, the soul he knew, the only one to touch his own and leave an indelible mark within. “I, too, have never been happier.”
Crowley lowered his eyelids as he touched Aziraphale’s cheek. “Take me inside,” he said in a sultry tone. “I need to wash the dirt from my skin…and I might need some help…”
“Hm…are there a few hard-to-reach places, then?” He ran his tongue over his lips. “And when you say, take me inside, could you perhaps mean that in more than one way?”
“Oh, yes…”
With a warm glow of anticipation flowing through him, Aziraphale turned towards the cottage, eagerly pulling Crowley along.
They had a very long bath, and afterwards, a very long shower, too.
***