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When Things Turn Out Bad

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“No, absolutely not! That is out of the question!” Aziraphale’s distress was apparent on his face, looking at Crowley in shock.

For his part, Crowley didn’t understand what was so bad about asking for the holy water. It was just for insurance, after all. “Angel-”

“No! I am not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!”

Oh. So that was what this was about. Crowley felt like an idiot, how had he not realized that? “I just want it for insurance, angel,” he assured Aziraphale.

“Crowley, I am not bringing you holy water! What if you accidentally touched it and discorporated?” Aziraphale turned his eyes away from the demon’s, tears shining in the corners of them. He sniffed, trying to hide them in vain.

Crowley couldn’t stand to see Aziraphale like this, but he wasn’t going to back down. “You know I would be careful with it, Aziraphale. What’s really going on here?” He stared, unflinching, behind his dark shades.

“I just can’t help but feel like you aren’t telling me the real reason you want it,” Aziraphale murmured, worry clear in his eyes. “I haven’t even seen you for seventy years. God knows what’s been happening since last time!”

“God doesn’t know,” Crowley muttered. “God doesn’t know or care about anything that goes on with my lot.”

The angel regretted mentioning God. “Anyways,” he said quickly, “I can’t help you, Crowley. So please, don’t ask about it again.”

“Well. Erm. Fine.” Crowley looked away in frustration. “Ngk.”

Aziraphale couldn’t see through his sunglasses, but he didn’t want to witness whatever expression Crowley was masking there. The angel knew Crowley could find holy water in a number of other places, but he hoped Crowley wouldn’t pursue it.

He looked down at the piece of paper folded in his hands, spelling out the holy water Crowley had asked for. Aziraphale huffed, throwing it out onto the pond, where it caught fire instantly. Oh, the poor ducks! Aziraphale felt remorse for littering in such a way.

Turning to walk away, the angel lifted his chin, determined not to show Crowley how hurt he was by the entire exchange.

“Aziraphale, wait!” The call caught Aziraphale by surprise. Had Crowley come to his senses? “I’m just going to ask you one more time. Please.”

“Crowley! No, now leave the subject alone!” Aziraphale had had it with Crowley’s persistence. “It is out of the question, just drop it.”

Crowley groaned in annoyance. “But, angel, why? I would never be… irresponsible with it!”

“That’s not it!” Aziraphale protested. “It’s complicated.”

“Really? Complicated?” The demon laughed incredulously. “That’s a first. Angel, things have always been complicated!” He was nearly snarling by now, but he didn’t care. Why in Heaven did Aziraphale have to be so damn stubborn?

A tear slipped down Aziraphale’s cheek. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Huh, what wouldn’t I understand now, Aziraphale? Is it because I’m a demon?” Crowley’s eyes flashed dangerously, slits flitting over in Aziraphale’s direction.

“Yes, precisely.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Crowley hissed. “What, what wouldn’t I understand?”

“Nevermind, forget I said anything!”

“No, no, no, I want to hear what I could never understand.”



“I wouldn’t give it to you because I love you!” Aziraphale yelled. Crowley was silent, processing what the angel had just said. “There, I said it. Are you happy now?” Aziraphale sniffed quietly.

Crowley let out a small laugh. “I cannot believe - in 5,800 years, and all of my glorious, elaborate plans to tell you first - that you’re the one who actually said it. And over an argument where you thought I was trying to commit suicide. I just can’t believe it!” He laughed again, then started giggling, a high-pitched, hysterical giggle. Placing a hand over his heart, Crowley laughed and laughed as Aziraphale watched in concern.

“Crowley? Are you alright?” he asked. Crowley calmed enough to stop shaking.

“Yes, angel. I’m deliriously happy, and a little annoyed that you stole my moment.”


“Shush, I said I was happy.”

Aziraphale smiled awkwardly and glanced up at Crowley, not sure what to say next. Everything seemed so close. Crowley’s sunglasses sat on the tip of his nose, revealing his slitted yellow eyes.

The demon leaned closer, seeming uncertain. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

The angel banished any apprehension from his mind, pulling Crowley’s glasses off completely. “Of course, my dear,” Aziraphale replied, moving forward to meet Crowley.

Their lips touched, softly at first but then more passionately are Crowley pushed back against Aziraphale. He reached a hand around the angel’s waist, drawing him closer and drinking in the scent of his clothing. Aziraphale brought his fingers ever so slightly to Crowley’s cheek, grazing the soft skin.

After a while, they both pulled away. Crowley’s sunglasses dangled from Aziraphale’s hand, and he handed them back to the demon. “Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured, placing the glasses on his face, “even if you don’t believe it, I’m capable of love. And my love for you is greater than anything that could exist on Earth or any place in the universe.” He chuckled, then added, “We also may have to wipe some people’s memories. You know how much people disapprove of folks like us kissing.”

He tried to kiss the angel again, but Aziraphale pulled away.

“I realize that now, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, not meeting Crowley’s eyes. He looked up apologetically at the demon. “I didn’t want to give you the holy water because I was scared something would happen. I love you, Crowley. I still don’t want to take that chance. I’m sorry.”

Crowley inhaled sharply. “Well, then. Maybe next time we see each other it will be on better circumstances.” He turned his head away. “When you’re ready to see sense and understand that I need it for insurance, you know where to find me.”

“Crowley, wait!” Aziraphale called out. “Please, did you not just say you loved me? And I love you?”

“Do you actually, angel?” he spat out. “Aren’t angels supposed to love everyone, unconditionally?”

Aziraphale sighed in anger. “Fine. You clearly need to sort out your priorities, because love should be more important than a stupid vial of holy water.” He stormed off, taking one last look at the pond where the paper had burned into ash, then back at Crowley before disappearing from sight.

Crowley didn’t fight the tears anymore, allowing them to slide down his cheeks. He could still feel Aziraphale’s lips against his own and the angel’s hand against his cheek. What Crowley really needed, he decided, was a nice, long nap to mull things over.

Perhaps another eighty years would do. Circumstances would change by then, surely.