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Limelight Revelations - Part 2

Chapter 4: Episode 3

Aziraphale cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, in front of the door to Crowley’s flat. Eventually, he took a deep breath and knocked.

“You’re early,” pointed out the demon, all neutral face and tone.

“Crowley, I owe you apologies,” quickly delivered Aziraphale.

“You bet! You have no reason to be mad at me! I-“

“Mad at you? Oh, dear boy, I’m only angry with myself. Would you please sit down? I must talk to you.”


He was ashamed he’d needed a whole week to process what the series had exposed to him. His character’s obnoxious behavior toward Crowley was an unsettling mirror. First, he had blamed that slanderous reflection. Why had Adam, or that Neil Gaiman if he’d extrapolated from the initial outline, depicted him so negatively? He may have been a little tactless at times, due to the stressful imminence of the Apocalypse, but his reactions were hugely exaggerated and surely Crowley hadn’t… Then Aziraphale had glanced at his friend, whose expression had been a slap in the face. His eyes fixed on Riz Ahmed, so lonely outside the bookshop, Crowley had tried to keep an indifferent air, betrayed by his pallor and his lips pressed together.

Goodness, the end of the world was just around the corner and the solution was probably in The Nice and Accurate Prophecies. That was more urgent than cosseting Crowley. Aziraphale had only been being pragmatic. Anyway, it had been thirty years ago. What was the point of bringing that up?

He’d tried to take his mind off it all week, but he couldn’t get rid of the image of Crowley with the same sad face as Riz Ahmed, standing on the pavement in front of the bookshop. Maybe it hadn’t even been the first time. Maybe he’d looked that way every time Aziraphale had said it was getting late, so the demon would let him enjoy a good book alone.

No, Crowley had said he was fine. Yes, like he was fine during the plague or the Spanish inquisition, an annoying little voice had argued in Aziraphale’s head.1 Clinging to what Crowley had pretended to avoid apologising would be cowardice at its finest. And Aziraphale was many things, but he wasn’t a coward.2

[1 Sometimes it succeeded in taking its gag off and escaping from the locked closet whose door had a discreet sign saying denial.
2 He could face anything the moment he could no longer hide it in said closet.]


“I’m sorry. I’ve been a complete bastard,” he said once they were seated on the couch. “Last week, and when I’d said you couldn’t understand what love is, and when I left you alone before the Apocalypse, and probably plenty of other times of which I’m not even aware.”

Crowley looked astounded. “Wow. Angel, are you okay? I mean, you never-“

“I know.3 And I should have, a long time ago.”

[3 Mind you, he hadn’t apologised to God Himself for giving his sword away. Or for lying about it. Or for thwarting the Apocalypse. And Hell would freeze over before Gabriel would hear apologies from Aziraphale.]

“It’s okay,” said Crowley softly.

“No. No, it’s not. Let me finish, please. About what I said, in the car… It was easier for me, to think you couldn’t… But later, I felt it. Your love. When you decided to fight Satan with me. I felt how much you love the Earth and humans. And since then… I can feel it all the time. I guess I couldn’t before because I wanted to believe I was better than you. It was so… I was so stupid. And I should have told you all this earlier. I’m really sorry.” Crowley sat very still, intently staring at him. “Will you forgive me?”

“Gosh, angel…” Crowley briefly looked away. “I’d like to tell you that I already had, but I recently realised I needed to hear it from you. Of course, I forgive you.”

Aziraphale suspected that some angels wouldn’t have been so lenient.4 “And I’m sorry for the times I implied I wanted you to leave the bookshop.”

[4 Gabriel, for a start.]

“Don’t worry about that. I understand you need alone time.”

“Thank you, dear.” Crowley’s sincere expression was a relief. Aziraphale refrained from hugging his amazing demon, not knowing how he would react. “I… erm… think it’s time.”

“Uh?”

“The series. Or you’ll miss the beginning.”

“Oh, right.”

Aziraphale felt both lighter and drained. He realised how tense he’d been all week and finally relaxed, getting more comfortable on the couch as Crowley turned the television on.


Famine coming into possession of the small pair of brass scales didn’t succeed in spoiling his restored cheerfulness. Nor did a hint of guilt over Anathema mourning the loss of her book while he was reading it in front of his cold cocoa. Obviously, when one owns a book of such value, they must take care not to leave it in a stranger’s car.

More interesting were the children’s make-believe play, the magazines and conversations with Anathema that had influenced Adam. Mix supernatural powers with kids’ imaginations, a hippy witch and a New Age tabloid, and you get a planet hollowed out by Tibetans and teeming with aliens and Atlanteans.

Trees began to sprout everywhere, and Crowley’s smile, initiated by the Them’s play,5 turned dreamy. Then amused - with a hint of… sadness? nostalgia? Why? - when Shadwell appeared on screen, answering the angel’s phone call.

[5 The real Spanish inquisition wasn’t as funny. Or at least, it depended on which side of the branding iron one was.]

“A disciplined force, heh?”

Aziraphale snorted. “Ha! You didn’t lie when you said your agents weren’t very sophisticated.” Shadwell scratched his ass through his dirty trousers, drinking from a tin of condensed milk. “And not only politically speaking.”

“That guy was priceless.”

“Was?”

“He died, last year.”

“Oh.” Well, it wasn’t surprising. He was already old thirty years ago. Just one more human they had known who’d passed away. And not even one to whom they were close. Adam hadn’t erased human beings’ memories; he had just blurred them, so Aziraphale and Crowley hadn’t dared stay in touch with those who’d seen them with their wings, in case meeting them would clear that fog. Though they had kept an eye on them, from afar.6 They hadn’t checked on Madame Tracy and Shadwell recently, and Aziraphale suddenly regretted it. “How do you know that?”

[6 They were curious about what would become of those who had foiled the Apocalypse with them. Aziraphale had a special interest in Anathema’s descendants (would they inherit Agnes’s gift?), while Crowley checked on Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale (he was quite fond of those kids).
In case you’re curious too… Anathema and Newt had a daughter – nine months after the Almost-Apocalypse - who’d had a daughter in turn. Rose was currently five, and had a certain tendency to make enigmatic comments. Brian had become a field reporter for a newspaper specialising in unexplained phenomena, like UFO sightings and witchy rituals – the kind of newspaper Newt had gone through each morning when working for Shadwell. Wensleydale had been dutifully working for twelve years as a clerk, then a notary. One day, when settling an estate, he’d met a charming oceanographer who was about to go work in Nova Scotia. He’d dropped everything without regret to follow him. As far as Crowley and Aziraphale knew, they were perfectly happy. Pepper was an activist, involved in so many causes it’s impossible to list them here. She and Adam had two sons and a daughter – and it was indeed a two-boy job to stand up to her. As for Adam, he worked at home, in Tadfield, as an author of children’s books. His terrific stories and creative illustrations, filled with singing whales, impenetrable forests and undersea kingdoms, never failed to make his readers’ eyes sparkle and to show them that the Earth is an amazing place. And when he was tired of writing, he went for long walks in the countryside with Dog – whose longevity was remarkable – with a stick to throw for him and poke at interesting things.]

“Did some internet research last week, since I had… erm… nothing else to do.”

“It’s odd. He was everything that I’m against, I was discorporated and soundly rebuffed by Gabriel because of him, he set fire to my bookshop, and yet, I couldn’t help but like him. And not because I’m an angel.”

“I see your point. I guess he had that effect on everyone.”

“He must have hated being liked.”

“Definitely.”

“Did you find something about Madame Tracy? Is she…?”

“She’s alive.”

“Does she still live in their bungalow?”

“No. It was hard to track her down. I saw on her nephew’s Facebook that she’s in a retirement home.” Crowley hesitated then added, “She seems to… get more and more confused.”

A word floated in the air, but neither of them said it.

Aziraphale sombrely took in that information as, in the series, Pollution was given his crown. “So there’s very little chance she would recognise me, if I went see her?” he asked slowly. He hazily noticed Death on screen.

“Probably not.” Death put their hand on the delivery man’s shoulder. “Wanna go tomorrow? I’ll drive you. If you want. And say hello.”

“Yes. Yes, thank you, dear.”

The poor man collapsed.

“Wait.” Aziraphale searched his memory. “There was a delivery man at the air base. I gave him the sword. He said something about his wife too, didn’t he?”

“Possibly. I wasn’t exactly in condition to pay attention. So what? Do you think it was the same guy?”

“Adam may have fixed that too. Resurrected him.”

“Never thought about- Oh shit!” Crowley gasped.

“What?”

“Ligur! What if…?”

“Oh, my!”

“Ohshitohshitohshit.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t panic.”

“I’m not panicking,” Crowley retorted with difficulty, hyperventilating.

“Listen, it’s been a long time.” Aziraphale materialised a paper bag, keeping to himself that the demon didn’t need to breathe, and handed it to Crowley. “If he intended to take revenge on you, he’d already have. And you’re under Adam’s protection, anyway. Perhaps he even made him and Hastur forget about that.”

Crowley calmed down a little as he breathed into the bag. “Yes. Yes. You’re right. Yes. No reason he’d come now.”

“We’ll ask Adam when he comes back, to be sure. You can come live over the bookshop if it makes you feel safer.” The proposition had passed his lips before he remembered there was not much room upstairs. So, when Crowley embarrassingly declined, he convinced himself it was for the best.

“Thanks but I’m fine.” Crowley sat up straight, frowned at the paper bag and crumpled it with poorly faked confidence.7 “Ha! They can come anytime. You renewed my stock of holy water. I killed him once, I can do it again.” He tossed the wadded bag vehemently toward the bin.

[7 As if Aziraphale could miss that he had just, with a discreet – and shaky – gesture, put on the door so many sigils against demons that he had trapped himself inside for weeks. The angel made a mental note to adjust them on his way out.]

“I’m sure, dear. Although, if Ligur’s alive, technically, you didn’t kill anyone after all.”

Crowley was still on edge, but an unexpected relieved expression crossed his face.


The demon made a show of nonchalantly commenting through the last part of the episode. For once, it did Aziraphale justice, by showing how he had cleverly located the Antichrist. Aziraphale tried his hardest not to appear too complacent – Pride is one of the Deadly Sins8 - especially when his friend said under his breath, “Well done, angel”.

[8 Please admire his capacity to not acknowledge he had already largely indulged in all of them – with the notable exception of lust.]

Meanwhile, the fictional-but-not-that-much Crowley phoned his network of agents in turn. Madame Tracy picked up.

“I’ll tell Mister Shadwell you called, love. What’s your name?... Sorry, I misheard your initial… Ah… for?...”

“James?” exclaimed Aziraphale, shocked. “When you added an initial to your name, you told me it was only because it sounded cool and it stood for nothing! But you did pick a name, obviously!” Crowley looked embarrassed. “And why James?”

“Er. Dunno. Sounds British. That’s all.”

“Really? Then why are you blushing?” A sudden thought stuck the angel. “Oooh. I know. It’s because of James Bond!” This was hilarious and endearing at the same time.

“Haha, of course not, it’d be-“

“Yes, I’m sure of it.” Aziraphale couldn’t help laughing.

“I just told you-“

“There’s what you say, and there’s the way you say it. I know I’m right.” His laugh stopped short. It wasn’t funny, all things considered. “Why, pray tell, do I learn this from a television programme?”

“Because I was sure you’d laugh at me,” sulkily replied Crowley, turning the television off now that the episode was over.

Aziraphale let out a sheepish little “Oh.” He cringed. “I… just did it again, didn’t I? Hurting your feelings. I’m sorry. Really. I think James is a good choice, actually.” He smiled apologetically. “Anthony James Crowley,” he articulated, as to taste the name. “It suits you.”

“Mmh.” A wry smile replaced Crowley’s offended air. “Thanks. And… angel… I honestly appreciate that you apologised earlier. But don’t make a habit of it. You know I like that you’re just enough of a bastard.”


Chapter 5: Episode 4

The first thing Crowley noticed when he opened the door was Aziraphale’s new shirt.1 Its colour was just a shade darker than his eyes, making them appear even lighter blue, which was no mean feat.

[1 Aziraphale’s fits of shopping were as rare as excruciatingly expensive. Both characteristics explained why he still wore clothes from the 19th century more than occasionally.]

“Erm… may I come in?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

Crowley awkwardly stepped aside, and Aziraphale brushed past him to enter the flat. The angel frowned and stared at him.

“You… sprayed yourself with cologne?”

“No!” This was the dumbest answer ever. It was obvious he had, without being really aware of doing it. The kind of nonsense one does after several sleepless nights of tossing and turning in bed – partly because he was listening for noises outside the flat door, partly because he couldn’t stop brooding over his old, obsessive questions about his role in the Ineffable Plan. Not to mention something unnerving he couldn’t identify.

Crowley hesitated over miracling the scent away, because that would’ve only made things weirder. “Yes. Maybe. So what if I did?” One of these days, he would have to figure out how his mouth was able to utter such rubbish lines before his brain could prevent it.2

[2 Probably because his brain was busy screaming and running in circles in panic.]

Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look. “Nothing. You just… don’t usually.”

“Hurry up. You’re late. It’ll start at any moment.”

The theme song saved Crowley from any further comment.


The episode opened with Newt realising that Tadfield was worth investigating. He was less daft than he looked. Crowley snickered at the Wasabi. Hastur and Ligur’s fake vehicle, with its detached wheels, had been more credible than that Japanese tin can. No wonder it had crashed. Especially with Anathema nearby. That girl should never be allowed to get close to any car.3

[3 Though, as far as Crowley knew, she had never added any luggage rack with tartan straps to an innocent, defenceless car.]

Not that Newt had anything to complain about, given the turn of events. Aziraphale promptly covered his eyes.

“C’mon, angel. We’ve seen films with more graphic scenes. And you live in Soho!”

“We know them. It’s embarrassing.”

“These are actors, you know.”

“Just tell me when it’s ov-“

“It’s over.”

“Already?”4

“Heh.”

[4 No need to be an expert to understand that wasn’t saying much for Newt.]


As Adam’s powers were rising (“See. I was right about the Kraken,” Aziraphale pointed out), Richard Ayoade contacted Heaven. Aziraphale ceased his gloating.

“I wanted to tell you first, you know. But I hoped…”

“I know.”

Crowley’s reassuring tone didn’t entirely wipe away Aziraphale’s regretful air.

“I’m-”

“Don’t you dare apologise again!” warned Crowley mockingly.

He congratulated himself as Aziraphale relaxed and smiled back at him. Crowley couldn’t remember if, in Heaven, other angels’ smiles had given him that same feeling of being bathed in sunshine. Maybe it had something to do with the way Aziraphale’s smiles made his eyes sparkle and their corners wrinkle.

Crowley forced himself to look back at the screen. Richard Ayoade was shamelessly lying to the Metatron to stay a bit longer on Earth.

“What a douchebag! To think they demoted you…”

"Indirectly because of a certain Serpent, as I recall,” teased Aziraphale. “I can’t say I took it well at first…”

“You don’t say! You sulked for at least your first five centuries on Earth.”

“…but it’s actually the best thing that ever happened to me. Or I’d be stuck in Heaven, listening to Elgar. In other words, bored to death.”

“You should show some gratitude to a certain Serpent.”

Aziraphale flashed a wry smile. “Remind me to send you a thank-you card. To get back to the Metatron, they are indeed insufferable.”

“I remember no angel liked them.”5

[5 A lot of angels didn’t like Aziraphale either, but that was not the point.]

“We speak for Him so you must listen to us and do whatever we say.” The perfect imitation made Crowley snigger. “Behind their back, everybody calls them the boss’s pet.”6

[6 At best.]

In his flat, Riz Ahmed was threatening his houseplants in attempt to calm his nerves. Crowley winced. It was an invasion of privacy, for Someone’s sake! Forums were going to have a field day with this.

“Honestly, dear, I should tell them what really happens to those you-“

“Ssssshhhhh!” Crowley nervously glanced at his plants. Luckily, they didn’t seem to have heard.


The soundtrack turned nerve-racking as Hastur and Ligur approached the demon’s flat.

“I wish I’d been there,” growled Aziraphale.

Crowley felt almost glad for Hastur and Ligur he hadn’t been.7

[7 Hastur had called Crowley a bastard? Ha! He’d never dealt with Aziraphale.]

Did Riz really have to overact and look so scared stiff when setting the holy water trap? Okay, it had been slightly stressful,8 but Crowley was proud to have kept an admirable control over his nerves. A cool, bold and suave hero, able to maintain composure even in the worst… He jumped when Aziraphale grasped his hand on the couch. Crowley stared at their hands together, struggling against an attack of tachycardia,9 then eventually pulled himself together enough to dare look up. The angel’s gaze was worriedly focused on the screen.

[8 Crowley should equip himself with something more secure than PVC gloves, he suddenly thought, in case Ligur was alive and found a way to have a word with him. One of those hazmat suits humans used in nuclear power stations, perhaps?
9 “No heart” repeated like a mantra proved to be extremely ineffective.]


“Angel, I told you what happened. Plus, you know I’ll be all right…” Crowley giggled. Too piercingly. Damn. He should really work on that.

Aziraphale kept watching the scene, without releasing his grip on Crowley’s hand.

The demon was still trying to keep his face from burning when Ligur melted on the floor. And when Hastur didn’t buy Riz’s bluff with the plant mister (“Nice try, dear”). And when the duke bought his second bluff with the phone call (“I know what an answering machine is! Or a voicemail, since they modernised the story. I was under pressure!”). During the chase through the radio waves, Aziraphale’s nails dug into the demon’s skin, so hard that it hurt. Although, Crowley didn’t feel relieved when Aziraphale released his hand, once Hastur got trapped in his voicemail. Quite the opposite, in fact.

He had a valid reason to feel disappointed. James Bond would have looked way more confident when defeating his enemies. And his weapon would have been classier than a plant mister. Crowley sighed.

“Oh, my dear boy! You were amazing! Suck on that, Bond!” exclaimed Aziraphale. “Erm. If I may say so.”

Elated, Crowley straightened his back and grinned.


In the meantime, Shadwell had made his way to the bookshop.

“So, what’s it like being the one exorcised?” teased Crowley. This whole scene was funny as…

“Fuck”, said Richard Ayoade as he stepped into the circle, causing a flash of dazzling blue light.

“Ooh! Language, angel!”

The light softened.

“Ah, you’re finally here!” snapped Gabriel, tapping his foot. “Never been diligent in obeying, have you?”

Richard argued that he still had unfinished business on Earth and that he needed a new body immediately, but Gabriel cut him off. “Get your priorities straight, principality. The Earth is about to be destroyed. I got you a flaming sword. You better take care of it this time. Anyway, you don’t deserve a new body, considering how you treated your old one. You should have gone jogging regularly, you know, just like I do when I get a human body.”

Crowley was itching to punch that asshole. “I wish I’d been there!”10

[10 Bravery seems so easy when one’s watching a series or a film.]

“That’s very kind of you, dear, but I can look after myself.”

Richard’s endless tirade left both Gabriel and Crowley speechless, before he stormed out.

“You really… said that… to Gabriel?”

“I may have gotten a little carried away,” conceded Aziraphale, with no trace of regret.11

[11 Actually, if you were looking for the definition of smugness, bingo, you just found it.]

“Angel… you’re the best!”

Aziraphale sighed theatrically. “Swear words are like cigarettes, I guess. Just one and you relapse.”

On Earth, Shadwell slamming the bookshop door made a candle fall over.

“So he didn’t cause it on purpose,” said Aziraphale. ”I’ve always thought he’d burned it to complete what he thought was an exorcism.”

Then he watched, with a pained air, as his Oscar Wilde first editions turned into ashes.

Crowley gave a sideways look to the angel’s hand, resting not far from him. Consolation wasn’t his strong point12 but… He vaguely patted the back of Aziraphale’s hand. Twice. Then he hastily repatriated his hand to the safety of his lap.

[12 It wasn’t exactly in the job description. But nothing listed in there was his strong point, either. Sadly, nobody had ever considered it pertinent to add “super-gluing coins to the sidewalk”.]

The Bentley braked with a screech of tires in front of the bookshop, almost running over a fireman. Riz Ahmed jumped out of the car and shouted, “This is my friend’s shop!”

The programme abruptly paused on his face ridiculously stuck in the middle of a distressed expression.
Crowley needed a few seconds to understand that Aziraphale had done it. The angel, his hand suspended in the gesture he’d made toward the screen, was gaping at him.

“Did you really say that? Out loud? In front of people?”

There was so much expectation in his astonished gaze… Crowley heard himself immediately mutter, “I don’t remember.”

A reflex. Admitting he was capable of feelings such as friendship in front of other demons would have been like painting a target on his back. Hide, lie, pretend, and everything will be okay.13

[13 He strongly suspected he wasn’t the only one, though. But it was like belonging to a covert network where one didn’t know who was an enemy or colleague undercover as an enemy. You just don’t ask around, “Hey, so, you too…?” And sometimes, he was wondering, staring at the ceiling above his bed… what if all demons felt pity, friendship, love, but none of them had ever dared say it, because common knowledge claimed it was impossible?]

Aziraphale’s budding smile withered.

A stupid reflex. Crowley was safe with him. The angel had apologised for believing the demon was unable to feel love, but no wonder he’d thought so. He deserved better than this facade.

“Wait!” said Crowley in a rush to stop Aziraphale, on the verge of resuming the programme. “Yes.” The angel raised his eyebrows. “I did. Because… because I thought you were in there and…” His mouth went dry. Come on, he could do it. “… because you’re my friend. My best friend.” A statue would have been less frozen than Aziraphale. Since Crowley had begun, he might as well go all the way. “Listen, I… Sure, I like dolphins, and gorillas, and whatever that series asserts I’d said when I was drunk, but… if I wanted to save the Earth, it was also because… it’s the only place we can be together.”

Aziraphale let out something between a little gasp of surprise and a suppressed sob, if a sob can sound happy. His eyes were shining too much. Gosh. He wasn’t going to cry, was he?

“Goodness, Crowley,” he said softly. “Don’t do that to an angel without a warning. What have I told you about oversensitivity?”

He looked up, exhaling a long breath through his mouth, so as to hold back his tears. His eyes were dry but still glittering when he gazed into Crowley’s. He put a hand on Crowley’s knee – how could he always do such things so easily, and why the hell had the demon been given a corporation with this recurrent problem of inopportune flushing? - “I see no better reason for saving this planet… my friend.”

He was positively glowing, and his smile made Crowley all warm and fuzzy inside. His smile was… it was… was so…

“We could maybe… erm… watch the end?” suggested Aziraphale, turning to the screen.

Crowley blinked and, suddenly aware his mouth was hanging open, closed it and nodded.

Riz Ahmed started moving again and rushed into the bookshop. The realistic scene gave the impression of being surrounded by flames.

“I already knew you went in there – you alleged it was because you needed my help to fight Hastur,” said the angel affectionately. “But it’s a different thing to see it,” he finished, more seriously. A jet of water knocked Riz Ahmed to the ground. “Oh, dear.”

Crowley may have forgotten to mention that detail. He gave his soaked, anything-but-cool double a disillusioned look, then he shrugged. He’d just done something more courageous than entering a burning building. Suck on that, Bond.

“I’ve never been so happy that demons are fireproof,” said Aziraphale, as the episode ended with the Bentley racing away, quietly playing Queen’s You’re my Best Friend.14 “Except in 1666, of course.”15

[14 So quietly that, at first, Crowley thought he was imagining it. Then he wondered if Adam himself had put it in the script because he’d foreseen the bookshop scene would make the demon open up to Aziraphale. Maybe the Antichrist was mischievously smiling somewhere in the world. Nah, Crowley eventually decided. That was getting a bit too paranoid, even for him. (He was wrong.)
15 Crowley had gotten an unearned commendation for the Great Fire of London. A bonfire was a pleasant way of celebrating a year ending in 666, Satan had appreciated, and he’d cited Crowley as an example for several weeks. That year, the Metatron hadn’t been the only one regarded as the boss’s pet (although Crowley’s nicknames were far more colourful).]


Yeah. Crowley was usually pleased with that ability, too. But not today. Because, if he’d been in danger in the bookshop, Aziraphale might have taken his hand again during the fire scene. And the demon wouldn’t have minded.

Next: Part 3!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-04 05:13 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Man, this one had me dying of feels D'X
Especially the phrase "Crowley couldn’t remember if, in Heaven, other angels’ smiles had given him that same feeling of being bathed in sunshine." It had me CRYING WITH FEELS!
Those two IDIOTS and their issues of dealing with their goddamn feelings!
But they are getting better at it, luckily!
Confessing at least SOME of it.
So I have hopes for part 3! :D
I love the way you portrayed their development.
How the series makes them realise and deal with things.
How Aziraphale overcomes his denial (WONDERFUL footnote, btw!), how Crowley forces himself to feel safe enough around Aziraphale to tell him he cares.
I especially love the mentions of totally ruthless, badass Aziraphale and how Hastur should have been afraid of him and how he talks down Gabriel :D
Also, kudos for this A+++++ description of Crowley:
"One of these days, he would have to figure out how his mouth was able to utter such rubbish lines before his brain could prevent it.2
[2 Probably because his brain was busy screaming and running in circles in panic.]"
which is totally worthy to go into any encyclopedia XD
I've said it before and I'll say it again: BRILLIANT fanfiction!
And thank you, Adam, for finally bringing those two idiots together!

Much love and some distant wailing from the floor,
Staubengel

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-04 07:34 pm (UTC)
secret_kraken: (Default)
From: [personal profile] secret_kraken
I answer from the floor too, tbh, bc your comment made me so happy! Thank you so much for your support!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-04 11:22 pm (UTC)
macdicilla: (Default)
From: [personal profile] macdicilla
AAAAH so it IS for james bond!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-05 10:59 am (UTC)
secret_kraken: (Default)
From: [personal profile] secret_kraken
It had to ;)

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-05 04:51 am (UTC)
autisticaziraphale: (Default)
From: [personal profile] autisticaziraphale
This was so sweet. Aziraphale’s apology, in particular, was adorable (as well as how moved he clearly was by Crowley’s concern during the fire). Also I love the continued references to Bond. “Suck on that, James Bond,” is particularly memorable. This is so great. I can’t wait to read the next part.

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-05 11:00 am (UTC)
secret_kraken: (Default)
From: [personal profile] secret_kraken
Aaah thank you *grins*

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-08 06:25 pm (UTC)
notaspacealien: (Default)
From: [personal profile] notaspacealien
Another excellent chapter! I love your fanmade TV series! And their reactions, ahhh! I'm so glad they're talking about their feelings!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-09 08:40 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I overindulged in miscommunication in some other of my fics, I wanted to make up:)

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-14 03:29 am (UTC)
From: [personal profile] maniacalmole
Reading about apologies is so cathartic

I ADORE every future you gave the other characters in the footnote! They're all perfect! I was sort of stunned when you said that Adam was a children's book author, because first of all that's perfect and amazing, and second, I'm trying to be one also, so it was weird (and very cool) feeling affinity with our wonderful antichrist ^_^ And thank GOODNESS Dog is okay!

:O Ligur!

"[2 Probably because his brain was busy screaming and running in circles in panic.]" I loved this whole part. Too relatable

Oh my gosh, a THEME song. Are we going to have a theme song for Good Omens!? I hope so because I would very much like to sing it all the time. Although I guess I could just do that with Queen and Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square XD

The part where Crowley was holding off Hastur! and Aziraphale grabs his hand! Ahhhhh!!

:O What did he say to Gabriel?? Hehe

The part where Crowley thinks about other demons and whether or not they feel things is making me so emotional. I want to write fics about all of them now DX

"He’d just done something more courageous than entering a burning building. Suck on that, Bond." This is so cool :D

I wish I could send the emoji with hearts for eyes on here, because I would send like twelve to represent how I felt reading the whole last part of this!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-14 11:06 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
I'm soooo glad you like the future I gave them :)

Yes, I can't wait for the theme song!!

"I want to write fics about all of them now" I'd gladly read them!!!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-16 01:56 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Tio-Trile here! Another great chapter...you made me a little nostalgic and bittersweet when I remembered that the book did came out almost thirty years ago, and the human characters would have grown older or else, had they been real. But let's get down to the details.

Aziraphale's confession apology and Crowley's reaction...awww my heart

You did point out a valid point: did Adam revive Ligur??? Quick someone send an ask to Neil
And Crowley hyperventilating into a paper bag hahaha the visualization...

Of course Crowley's middle name is James for James Bond

I love how these get-togethers are basically becoming dates for A & C *squeals*

"Already?" AHAHAHAHAHAha Aziraphale how should you know how long these things go for

They held hands AaaaaHHHHHHHHHHH these DoRKS

I can't wait to see Aziraphale and Gabriel's interactions in the actual show. I hope it's as good as what you have in your fic hehe

When Aziraphale stopped the program I was screaming "No, Aziraphale, turn it back on I need to see this part" in my head hahaha...but their exchange...and Crowley's love confession it's just aaahHHHHH sso wholesome......I'm so happy now...*weeps

Sorry it took me so long to read, onto part 3! Again, thank you for this gem!!

(no subject)

Date: 2018-01-20 09:36 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
"Aziraphale how should you know how long these things go for" Well, one doesn't live in Soho without learning a thing or two ;) Purely conceptually, of course.

Thank you so much for letting me know your reactions while reading :D
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