Happy Holidays, Lunatique!
Jan. 2nd, 2019 05:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeTitle: Traveling, Thinking, and Tasting
Recipient: Lunatique
Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley
Rating: General
Word Count: 20,924
Notes: Thanks to irisbleufic for agreeing to beta read! I really appreciate your patience and feedback, as the story was a long one. I also give thanks to all the travel and restaurant websites I got information from, not to mention Google Maps. This fic was equal parts fun and challenging, and I got the experience of traveling without leaving my computer.
Summary: After the failed Apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley get the idea to tour various cities in Europe. While they travel, they visit various sites and try the cuisine. Seeing all the different creations that humanity has produced over the millennia causes the duo to reflect on the past, contemplate the future, and enjoy the present.
Note: The author has divided this fic into four posts.
***
Crowley and Aziraphale sat on a wooden bench in St. James’s Park, a bag of old bread between them. The clear skies and cool, yet refreshing temperature encouraged them to spend time in one of their favorite locations in London. A few humans had gotten the same idea: a mixture of joggers, duck feeders, and secret agents populated the space. Ducks drifted on the water’s surface, a few of them stepping onto dry land to catch the bread crumbs in their bills.
Aside from the splashing of the ducks, a peaceful silence settled over the park, the occupants not eager to break the lazy afternoon atmosphere. One duck caught a large piece of bread in its beak and sank in the water.
With a frown, Aziraphale turned to face Crowley. “Really, my dear?” he said.
For a moment, Crowley continued to stare ahead. Then, his gaze focused behind his sunglasses, and he straightened up. “Oh, sorry.”
The duck floated back to the surface, shaking out its wings in a way that suggested irritation before leaving the piece of bread behind.
While other ducks swarmed the baked morsels, Aziraphale said, “I’m surprised that you still keep such habits.” He grabbed a smaller piece of bread and threw it in the water. “Though duck-sinking doesn’t seem too far from plant-terrorizing.”
“It’s not terrorizing the plants. I’m simply informing them that poor growth is not tolerated.” He watched as a group of ducks squabbled over Aziraphale’s bread crumb. “You go slack on them, the next thing you know, they’re all drooping with yellow and brown spotted leaves.”
“Really, my dear, you’re far too concerned with appearances.” Although Aziraphale was trying to be serious, his humorous expression undercut the chiding.
At the remark, Crowley straightened up and put a hand to his chin. “That reminds me, how much time have you invested in maintaining and organizing your book collection? Or perhaps they’re sitting in a clutter to deter potential customers?”
“That’s different,” Aziraphale jabbed back. “Some of the books are priceless first editions, not to mention the new ones I bought.” He had sold some of the children’s books that Adam had stocked on his shelves. To his surprise, they had been worth a fortune. He used the profits to buy all kinds of books, including a few Bibles in the off-chance that his superiors upstairs asked.
“Ah, yes, you sold the books Adam gave you.” Crowley threw some more bread at the few ducks that lingered. “I’m surprised he got so many correct despite never setting foot there. He even got the Bentley mostly right, except the music doesn’t turn into Queen.” He kept his tone light at the mention of Queen, but the thoughts that followed gave him pause.
For a moment, neither spoke. Ever since the Apocalypse That Wasn’t, they had continued living their lives as they had before, with the occasional wile or good deed thrown in for good (or bad) measure. Aside from the occasional reference, neither had discussed in-depth what had happened that night, and each got the impression that the other was content with that.
Aziraphale broke the silence first. “Nothing from your side still, I’m guessing?”
“Nope.” Crowley lobbed another piece of bread at the ducks, who chased the bread with ceaseless hunger. “Not even ominous static. Have your people said anything?”
“If they had, I doubt I would be sitting with you now.” He stared across the water and at the palace rising behind it. “I’ve spent a lot of time in my bookstore, selling the children’s books and buying new ones for my collection. Fortunately, the amount of customer traffic has diminished.”
Crowley smiled “I’ve done some shopping, too. Since I stay in my flat more than I used to, I’ve bought some new decorations to fill the space. Last week, I got a new duvet and computer from Manchester.”
The last comment caused Aziraphale to whip his head around. “You went to Manchester?” he asked.
“Yep, and a few other cities in England.” He took a moment to glance around at the buildings. “As much as I enjoy London, it was nice to get out of here.”
Aziraphale furrowed his brows. “To what purpose, though?” He did his best to not sound suspicious, but he recalled how Crowley had taken point on developing Manchester and wondered if he was engaged in more wiles.
“Because I wanted to travel to different places on my own, not on orders or any sort of corruption scheme.”
Perhaps it shouldn’t have, but the response surprised Aziraphale. He faced forward again and said, “Ah, that makes sense.” He thought about what else to add. “You know, I certainly wouldn’t mind visiting different places in England. The humans from other countries often visit here, but they miss out on some of the other towns and cities.”
“Why limit yourself to England? There are lots of places to see in Britain and Ireland.” Although Crowley kept his posture relaxed, he sounded fascinated by the idea
“Or we could see all of Europe.”
Crowley grinned at him. “I like the way you think, angel.” He pointed at him. “It would provide a nice change of scenery, not to mention all the food and sights.”
Aziraphale jokingly swatted at his finger. “Is this another one of your temptations, you old serpent?” He tried to take on a firm tone, but failed. “I won’t fall for it.”
“Now, if I told you, that would ruin the point, wouldn’t it?” Crowley failed to sound mysterious, switching quickly to sincerity. “Besides, with upstairs always watching what you do and when you do it, I’m guessing you haven’t had much chance to see the world for your own enjoyment. Now would be the time to do it.”
Aziraphale had to admit that he had a point. Even when he did have time to go to new places, he could always feel Heaven’s gaze on the back of his neck. The idea of sightseeing and gastronomy held appeal. However, he still had one question. “How are we going to get to all these places?” he asked. “We’ll have to cover a lot of ground and cross the Channel besides.”
“I have a car, remember?” Crowley made some vague hand gestures. “And last time I checked, we both have functioning wings, meaning we can fly to places much easier than the humans can. So what do you say?”
At this point, he couldn’t think of any other objections. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he said. “I’ll have to close the shop while I’m gone, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” The opposite, in fact, he thought to himself. “I can pack my belongings, and we can meet at mine before heading off.”
“I knew you would agree.” Crowley leaned back against the bench with a satisfied expression. A young couple walking by stared at them, and he lowered his sunglasses enough for them to glimpse his serpentine yellow eyes. They turned and bolted, bumping into other pedestrians along the way.
Aziraphale watched them and turned back to an amused Crowley, who returned his sunglasses to their usual place. “Really, my dear?” he asked.
“Old habits,” he quipped. “It’ll teach them not to stare.” He grabbed the remaining bread and straightened up. “Well, we still have all this bread left, and the ducks won’t feed themselves.”
His nonchalant attitude earned an eye roll from Aziraphale, who nonetheless grabbed some of the bread and said, “Yes, let’s.”
***
The bell above the door rang, and Aziraphale glanced up to see Crowley standing at the entrance. He wore a collared short-sleeved shirt and dark trousers in contrast to his usual suit, though he’d kept the jacket. A sleek black messenger bag hung from his shoulder, and Aziraphale guessed that it held more than what its size suggested.
“Hello, Crowley,” he greeted. “I see you have your things. I just need to grab mine from the back, and I’ll be ready.”
“No rush,” Crowley replied as he watched him hurry out of sight. He noticed that Aziraphale had chosen a more neutral jumper to wear under his jacket instead of tartan. When the angel returned, he knew why. His oversized luggage had a rather bold tartan pattern. “Why am I not surprised?” Crowley muttered to himself.
“Oh, hush,” Aziraphale said with a hand wave. “Tartan is stylish, and it is fitting for my idea on where to head first.”
In hindsight, Crowley realized that they had not actually decided where to head first. “What idea were you thinking of?” he asked. He guessed that the angel would want to visit a location with a lot of ancient libraries or fancy food, but that still left a lot of options.
“Scotland. Edinburgh, to be exact.” Aziraphale scribbled a note about being away on a trip and stuck the paper in the front window. “I’ve been there for work, but I want to see the city and how it’s doing now. Plus, if I remember right, the food and the history are rich.”
Now it was Crowley’s turn to be surprised. “Interesting. I thought you might have chosen a much farther-away location.”
“We can consider it a warm up before we head to the mainland.” Once he flipped the CLOSED sign, he turned back to Crowley. “Does that sound like a good plan?”
“I would say so. I haven’t been to Edinburgh in a while.” He grabbed his car keys from his jacket. “I’ll get the chance to drive the Bentley again.”
Aziraphale’s expression turned to a mix of amusement and fear. “All right,” he said. “Just make sure you don’t hit anyone while you’re driving, and please refrain from speeding at 110 miles per hour an hour again. I still have memories from last time.”
“No promises,” he replied as he headed outside.
The drive to Edinburgh was rather peaceful. Not a lot of cars were on the road, and the ones that were had the courtesy to shift lanes once they spotted the Bentley barreling toward them.
Strains of Beethoven drifted from the speakers, and they stayed Beethoven until Crowley replaced the tape with a new one. Aziraphale occupied himself with watching the landscape passing by, soaking in the view and not wanting to distract Crowley while he drove.
The next tape began with a familiar singer, and Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “I thought Adam stopped the Bentley from turning music into Queen.”
“He did,” Crowley replied, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “I just got a Best of Queen tape for the car.” He glanced at Aziraphale and said, “I can enjoy Queen when not every tape turns into it, not to mention Freddie Mercury’s singing. The songs bring back memories.”
Aziraphale chose not to comment, figuring that at least Crowley hadn’t loaded up the car with be-bop. While Freddie sang about how he wanted to break free, he thought that the lyrics matched their current situation.
A few hours later, he noticed that more buildings began to occupy the landscape. He knew that their destination lay ahead, though the last time he had traveled, he could have sworn it had taken longer.
“Are we there already?” he asked. “I could have sworn that the trip took at least half a day.”
Crowley grinned at him. “But I wasn’t driving then.” More cars lay ahead as they entered the city limits, and he returned his efforts to navigating the busy streets. “Now, where should I park?”
“Don’t you normally create your own parking spaces?” Aziraphale didn’t want to admit it, but he was relieved that they would be walking. He had gotten the impression that Crowley would want to spend the whole trip in the Bentley, which would take away from the experience. Besides, Crowley’s speeding was beginning to make him feel nauseous, something that almost never happened to him.
Crowley eyed him from behind his sunglasses. “Now, where did you get the idea that I do that?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He steered to the side of the street, the pavement lines shifting to form a brand new parking space. “I’m just lucky.” He shoved the car keys back in his jacket and opened the car door. “We’re here.”
The smell hit Aziraphale as soon as the door opened. “Yep, we’re in Edinburgh.” He opened the door on his side and stepped onto the pavement. “The smell of breweries bring back memories of my trips here.”
Next to him, Crowley nodded and stuck his tongue out. “I get what you mean. It’s rather distinct.” A few pedestrians gave them strange looks, so he withdrew his tongue and said, “The day’s still young, and we have time to explore.” He made a gesture for Aziraphale to step ahead. “Since you’ve been here, perhaps you could lead the way for today?”
“I’d love to, my dear,” the angel replied, with the barest hint of sarcasm. Though he had retained a lot of old-fashioned mannerisms, he was not completely behind the times.
Their surroundings looked a lot like what Aziraphale remembered, and he had little issue navigating his way through the cityscape. Tall stone block buildings flanked both sides of the pavement. With the façades covered in neat grids of windows, Aziraphale wondered what went on inside them. A cool breeze ghosted between the snug buildings, adding a refreshing touch to the mild summer heat.
They had walked several blocks before Aziraphale realized that Crowley had not spoken since they left the Bentley. He glanced sidelong at the demon, wary.
To Aziraphale’s surprise, he was staring at the surrounding buildings with a thoughtful expression. And then he asked, “How long ago did you say you last came here?”
“Some years ago,” he replied, which might have meant two years or twenty. “Or at least that’s when I last came here on official business. I’ve stopped by to check on progress and for some mild good deeds. You know, a donation here and a compliment there, but I haven’t done much else.”
Crowley nodded. “That’s about what I did in Manchester, except in reverse. You’d be surprised what a few well-placed coins glued to the sidewalk can do.” They approached an intersection at the same time as a car, but the driver had a last-minute change of heart and turned, leaving the street empty to cross. “I also learned that humans nowadays can get really impatient when their technology lags, even for a few seconds.”
“One of the benefits of using older methods,” Aziraphale chimed, “is that you do not have to worry about pages lagging or buffering book illustrations.”
“Whatever you say, angel.”
Aziraphale sped up his pace for the next few blocks. Soon, he stood outside the castle that had been looming ahead of them. Memories of the structure’s creation came to mind as Aziraphale recalled how local tribal communities that once occupied the space merged, in time, to create a capital city.
“Here we are,” Aziraphale said, half to himself and half to Crowley. “Edinburgh Castle.”
Crowley also studied the structure before them. “Hm, it’s been a long time since I was here. I could have sworn it was a bit bigger.”
“If I recall, Edinburgh Castle has since been turned into a Historic Scotland site. People pay a fee and are able to discover the history that lies within.” He turned to face Crowley. “Shall we head in for a look? I haven’t seen the castle since it became a museum.”
It took a moment for him to answer. “It would be nice to take a quick stroll inside.” He began heading toward the entrance, following a herd of tourists with the same maps. “However, I would rather not pay the fifteen-pound fee.”
With a sigh of frustration, Aziraphale followed the demon as he weaved through the crowds trying to buy tickets. A mixture of blending with the crowd and supernatural influence ensured that they slipped by without notice, and Aziraphale quelled his guilt by deciding he would give a sizeable donation to wherever he visited next.
His resolution of staying only for a short stroll began to weaken when he stepped into the Great Hall. The lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the bare, yet elegant space. Bright red walls contrasted against the dark wooden ceiling, and the empty fireplace along the back wall stood as the sole evidence that someone had once lived there. While he examined the empty armors, he spotted Crowley waving at him from the corner of his eye. It took a while to move past the many human tourists, but eventually reached his traveling partner. “What is it?” he asked.
“I found a map of the space. Apparently, there is an exhibition called Prisons of War below the Great Hall. Does that, er, sound interesting?” Aziraphale’s expression said it all, and he glanced back down at the map with obvious relief. “We could go to St. Margaret's Chapel, although I’d d rather avoid spending too much time in there. How about the Crown Jewels?”
“I thought we were only going to be here for a short time.” Aziraphale did not want to admit that his curiosity was piqued. “Is it far from here?”
“Not far according to the map, though even if it was, it wouldn’t be much of a problem for us.” When he glanced at the map again, he said, “Actually, the Crown Jewels would bring us closer to the entrance. We should at least make a stop there.”
It was difficult to see many items in the exhibit, what with the large crowd, but they caught a glimpse of the crown sitting on a decorative red pillow. Beneath the pillow was the scepter, and the Stone of Ages stood next to it. The occasional flash from a camera illuminated the space further, and it seemed that every time a person moved away, the gap was filled by another.
Aziraphale stood on his toes to get a better view, even hovering a few millimeters above the ground. After a few minutes, he sighed, “I still don’t know why humans crowd so much.”
“Well, you know how to do crowd-clearing,” Crowley replied from behind him, “if your mad dash to the Castle earlier was any indication.” He eyed the humans struggling to move to and from the display. “Should we head out and find other places?”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Aziraphale eyed the group next to them, who seemed a bit too eager to get to the front. “Besides, I would rather not stay long since we haven’t paid.”
“Of course.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist and led him through the crowd. The occasional tourist complained, but most either moved out of the way or were too fixated on the Crown Jewels display to notice. Once outside, they headed back down the cobbled hill toward the streets they hadn’t yet explored.
“Well, that was interesting,” Crowley sighed.
“I agree,” Aziraphale said. “I’m glad that we got to stop by for a bit.”
Aziraphale ushered Crowley forward, assuring him that he had a destination in mind, and that it wasn’t far. Although the city’s parks had their appeal, they did not hold a candle to the place Aziraphale had in mind.
The entrance was easy to miss. Between the stone townhouses stood a plain gateway. Aziraphale spotted it and headed between the gateposts, occasionally turning back to make sure that Crowley followed.
Even without flashy signs or pamphlets, the sprawling green landscape with multiple trails let Aziraphale know that he had reached their destination: the Royal Botanic Garden.
The expansive lawn stretched out for at least a few blocks. Trees peppered the landscape, along with some shrubs and herbaceous plants. People walked and jogged along the parks, and a few chose to relax in the grassy spaces.
From a bench along the trail that they’d chosen, Aziraphale ignored the fact that Crowley had taken to scolding some shrubs and did his best to focus on what went on around the park. He knew that his friend was in the habit of scaring plants and wondered how that counted as an evil deed. However, he chose not to question it, because heaven knew Crowley rarely questioned him.
Speaking of books, the weather was ideal for reading outdoors. He grabbed a book from his backpack, one that had been written by a Scottish scholar, and opened to the first page. Since the book was a first edition, he made sure to hold it carefully and out of the sunlight. Fortunately, his bench was shaded by one of the trees. Before he knew it, he was lost in words, all background noises blurring and fading away.
Behind him, Crowley said, “Whatcha reading?”
Aziraphale jumped and nearly threw the book in the air. He tightened his grip on the pages and would have left marks if not for his neatly-trimmed nails.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, hoping to cover his startlement.
“Long enough to know that you can braid a lot of things into angel hair.” He laughed as Aziraphale’s hand shot up to check. “Kidding. But I’ll admit I was tempted. To say that you’re distracted while you read would be an understatement.”
Aziraphale huffed. “Well I thought you were busy taking care of the plants.” Even without hand gestures, he managed to convey the impression of air-quotes.
“Finished a while ago.” He glanced out at the park with satisfaction. “When we head out, you may notice they have better posture and greener leaves.”
“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale packed his book and straightened up. To his surprise, the sun had begun to set. “We’ve been here a while, haven’t we? Let’s get something to eat. If I recall, there are a lot of fine restaurants on the Royal Mile.”
Crowley mock-curtseyed. “Well, then. Lead the way, O wise guide.”
Not wanting to admit that perhaps the plants looked sharper than before, Aziraphale led them out of the Gardens. The longer he stayed in Edinburgh, the more he remembered about the streets and locations.
“What would you say you’re in the mood for?” he asked Crowley. “Something fancy, or would you prefer simpler local cuisine?”
“Do you even need to ask?” He sped up to keep pace with the angel. “Especially after all the meals we’ve had at the Ritz.”
“Well, I know a place that’s not far from here.” Aziraphale crossed the street and turned right. “It’s called the Scotch Malt Whiskey Society, and they have a rather nice dining room. You normally need a reservation, but I happen to have connections.”
Hearing this, Crowley raised his eyebrows. “It sounds like a nice place. I’m impressed, angel. Getting connected to posh society for personal benefit. I approve.”
“Oh, hush. They are actually rather nice.” He stopped in front of a gray brick building with two potted plants flanking the entrance. Gold-lined menus adorned the antique black streetlamps, and a waist-high gate ran along the perimeter of the establishment. The front door stood propped open, and Aziraphale stood to the side with a mock bow. “Besides, you’ll see why I did once you experience the dining room yourself.”
Any doubts that Crowley had had about the angel’s last statement dissolved once he entered the restaurant. The dining area had pristine white walls and plush seats. “Well, you weren’t kidding about the restaurant.”
Aziraphale made no effort to hide his amusement. “I told you it was a nice place.” He headed over to a table with two seats and a reservation paper. “Come on, dear boy. Here’s our spot.”
The brashness of Aziraphale’s actions caused Crowley to falter. “Angel, are you sure you’re alright? It’s not like you to take...” The name on the reservation paper read Mr. A. Ziraphale. It took him a moment to speak. “You managed to get a reservation?”
“Connections.” Aziraphale took his seat with the confidence of a householder sitting at the head of his dinner table. “I called the manager before you arrived at the bookstore, and he was happy to set aside a table. The menu has a lot of options. I’m sure you’ll find one to your liking.”
A member of the wait-staff spotted them and instantly headed over with a pair of menus in hand. Aziraphale greeted him, ordering the scallops, scotch beef, and chocolate mousse without even needing to glance at his menu.
Crowley glanced at his menu, and then set it to the side. “I’ll just order what you got. Let’s see how good the scallops and scotch beef are.”
“Excellent choices,” the angel replied, a smile forming on his lips. When the waiter appeared again, he handed him Crowley’s menu and said, “He’ll have my usual as well. Also, we’ll take the whole lot at the same time.”
They continued to discuss the history of the restaurant, which rather fascinated Crowley. He now started to wish that he had done something similar in Manchester, though he figured that since he had the Ritz, he didn’t have to worry much about connections. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but feel impressed at the angel’s resourcefulness.
The scallops came garnished with a mix of rice, egg, and fried onions. Likewise, the beef came in neat slices and had a side of vegetables. A scoop of caramel ice cream garnished the dark chocolate and whiskey mousse, and Crowley made a note to eat that before the ice cream melted.
When Crowley glanced over, he saw that Aziraphale had already eaten half of his scallops.
“That good?” he asked teasingly.
“You’ll see when you try it.” Aziraphale scooped some of the vegetables on his fork and ate it with a slice of steak. “While it’s not the Ritz, it is definitely high-quality.”
Crowley stuck a fork through one of the scallops and noticed how easily the prongs slid through it. The idea of garnishing scallops with kedgeree had not occurred to him, but the mixture of flavors convinced him that the inventor of the recipe deserved a medal.
“I’m surprised you don’t come here more often,” he said admiringly to Aziraphale.
“Well, when I did come here, it wouldn’t have looked good to my superiors if all I did was indulge in food.” Aziraphale had polished off his plates and moved on to the dessert. By some miracle, the ice cream had remained fully intact, or at least it did until it met its end by spoon stabbing. “You should eat your dessert, or at least stop it from melting.”
When Crowley glanced down and saw his ice cream had melted, he blessed under his breath. A second later, the ice cream resembled a lumpy blob of cream, and then a neat scoop like before. The sweetness of the caramel ice cream complemented the dark chocolate mousse, and Crowley doubted that the flavor would have been lost even with the ice cream melted.
“I must say, angel, you have really outdone yourself this time.”
“Why, thank you.” Aziraphale replied. He pulled out his wallet from his bag and set down a stack of pounds. “Part of why the wait-staff know me so well is my generous tipping. Charity is a virtue, after all.”
“All right, I’ll pay as well.” Crowley took out his wallet and set a stack of bills down. “Only because the food was really good, and money fuels greed.”
The waiter returned again, removing the plates and money. After exchanging farewells, the pair headed back to the street, where the sun had almost finished crossing the horizon.
“We were in there for a while, weren’t we?” Aziraphale said. “It’s getting rather late now.”
Crowley leaned against the gate railing and stretched his arms. “Perhaps we could find a place to sleep. You wouldn’t happen to have connections with any of the hotel owners, would you?”
“I don’t, unfortunately.” The angel turned to him. “However, I was hoping that we could head to our next destination.”
“Normally, I’m the one pushing for us to go to places while you want to stay holed up with the books,” Crowley groused. While he didn’t mind heading to their next destination, the angel’s mindset had caught him off guard.
“I can name multiple instances in the past where that was most certainly not the case.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a travel guide. “So where should we head next? I was debating between Amsterdam, Brussels, and Copenhagen.”
“Of course you have a travel guide,” Crowley muttered. “Amsterdam and Brussels are closer, which would make for a much easier flight. I would be interested in seeing the canals.”
“Me too. I heard that they have boat rides for tourists.” Aziraphale snapped the book shut and put it back in his bag. “So I guess we know where we’re going to head next. Shall we?”
“Hold on. I need to do something with the Bentley first. I can meet you there.”
“Sounds great. I’ll meet you along the coastline.” Aziraphale made a telephone gesture with his hand and held it to his face. “If we get separated,” he joked, “I’ll call.”
Aziraphale headed to one of the green spaces they had passed earlier. After ascertaining that nobody else was around, he opened his wings, which, despite having a few loose feathers, were nowhere near as messy as Crowley insisted. He took off at a speed slightly below that of sound to avoid creating a sonic boom.
As he ascended, he enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing around him. The land below faded into water, and he kept his eye out for the coastline of Amsterdam and a certain well-dressed demon waiting on the coast.
He landed along the shore, making sure to tuck his wings in as soon as he landed. Though he used a small amount of supernatural influence to keep the humans from detecting him, he didn’t want to take any chances with getting caught.
Before he could dwell further on it, a dark flash in the distance caught his eye.
Crowley landed next to him, his wings still out and visible. “Well, this is a nice view.” He stared out at the sea for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on the waves. Even with sunglasses covering part of his face, awe still shone in his voice. “I wouldn’t mind spending the night here.”
“I thought you wanted to see the canals,” Aziraphale replied. “We don’t technically need to sleep, and besides, you can do that all you want back in London.”
“We may not need it, but it’s a nice indulgence.” Crowley turned in the opposite direction, toward the city. “What are you going to do in the meantime? The beach at night is rather nice.”
“Actually, I was hoping to scope out the city ahead of time. It helped today’s tour of Edinburgh that I was already familiar with the location.” Aziraphale studied Crowley. “Honestly, I should be the one asking you where you plan to go.”
The question did not faze him. “I can just find and borrow a hotel room. I’m sure that a city like this has a lot of places for tourists to stay the night.”
Although Aziraphale doubted that ‘borrow’ was the correct term, he did not question it. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Crowley headed out, so Aziraphale turned back to the sea again. Humans tended to stay away from the beach at night, leaving the place deserted.
After admiring the view for a while, he turned and set his sights on Amsterdam. He contemplated flying again, figuring it would make the trip quicker. In the end, he chose to walk, although he wasn’t above cheating by speeding his pace a few times.
Next: Part 2!
Recipient: Lunatique
Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley
Rating: General
Word Count: 20,924
Notes: Thanks to irisbleufic for agreeing to beta read! I really appreciate your patience and feedback, as the story was a long one. I also give thanks to all the travel and restaurant websites I got information from, not to mention Google Maps. This fic was equal parts fun and challenging, and I got the experience of traveling without leaving my computer.
Summary: After the failed Apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley get the idea to tour various cities in Europe. While they travel, they visit various sites and try the cuisine. Seeing all the different creations that humanity has produced over the millennia causes the duo to reflect on the past, contemplate the future, and enjoy the present.
Note: The author has divided this fic into four posts.
Crowley and Aziraphale sat on a wooden bench in St. James’s Park, a bag of old bread between them. The clear skies and cool, yet refreshing temperature encouraged them to spend time in one of their favorite locations in London. A few humans had gotten the same idea: a mixture of joggers, duck feeders, and secret agents populated the space. Ducks drifted on the water’s surface, a few of them stepping onto dry land to catch the bread crumbs in their bills.
Aside from the splashing of the ducks, a peaceful silence settled over the park, the occupants not eager to break the lazy afternoon atmosphere. One duck caught a large piece of bread in its beak and sank in the water.
With a frown, Aziraphale turned to face Crowley. “Really, my dear?” he said.
For a moment, Crowley continued to stare ahead. Then, his gaze focused behind his sunglasses, and he straightened up. “Oh, sorry.”
The duck floated back to the surface, shaking out its wings in a way that suggested irritation before leaving the piece of bread behind.
While other ducks swarmed the baked morsels, Aziraphale said, “I’m surprised that you still keep such habits.” He grabbed a smaller piece of bread and threw it in the water. “Though duck-sinking doesn’t seem too far from plant-terrorizing.”
“It’s not terrorizing the plants. I’m simply informing them that poor growth is not tolerated.” He watched as a group of ducks squabbled over Aziraphale’s bread crumb. “You go slack on them, the next thing you know, they’re all drooping with yellow and brown spotted leaves.”
“Really, my dear, you’re far too concerned with appearances.” Although Aziraphale was trying to be serious, his humorous expression undercut the chiding.
At the remark, Crowley straightened up and put a hand to his chin. “That reminds me, how much time have you invested in maintaining and organizing your book collection? Or perhaps they’re sitting in a clutter to deter potential customers?”
“That’s different,” Aziraphale jabbed back. “Some of the books are priceless first editions, not to mention the new ones I bought.” He had sold some of the children’s books that Adam had stocked on his shelves. To his surprise, they had been worth a fortune. He used the profits to buy all kinds of books, including a few Bibles in the off-chance that his superiors upstairs asked.
“Ah, yes, you sold the books Adam gave you.” Crowley threw some more bread at the few ducks that lingered. “I’m surprised he got so many correct despite never setting foot there. He even got the Bentley mostly right, except the music doesn’t turn into Queen.” He kept his tone light at the mention of Queen, but the thoughts that followed gave him pause.
For a moment, neither spoke. Ever since the Apocalypse That Wasn’t, they had continued living their lives as they had before, with the occasional wile or good deed thrown in for good (or bad) measure. Aside from the occasional reference, neither had discussed in-depth what had happened that night, and each got the impression that the other was content with that.
Aziraphale broke the silence first. “Nothing from your side still, I’m guessing?”
“Nope.” Crowley lobbed another piece of bread at the ducks, who chased the bread with ceaseless hunger. “Not even ominous static. Have your people said anything?”
“If they had, I doubt I would be sitting with you now.” He stared across the water and at the palace rising behind it. “I’ve spent a lot of time in my bookstore, selling the children’s books and buying new ones for my collection. Fortunately, the amount of customer traffic has diminished.”
Crowley smiled “I’ve done some shopping, too. Since I stay in my flat more than I used to, I’ve bought some new decorations to fill the space. Last week, I got a new duvet and computer from Manchester.”
The last comment caused Aziraphale to whip his head around. “You went to Manchester?” he asked.
“Yep, and a few other cities in England.” He took a moment to glance around at the buildings. “As much as I enjoy London, it was nice to get out of here.”
Aziraphale furrowed his brows. “To what purpose, though?” He did his best to not sound suspicious, but he recalled how Crowley had taken point on developing Manchester and wondered if he was engaged in more wiles.
“Because I wanted to travel to different places on my own, not on orders or any sort of corruption scheme.”
Perhaps it shouldn’t have, but the response surprised Aziraphale. He faced forward again and said, “Ah, that makes sense.” He thought about what else to add. “You know, I certainly wouldn’t mind visiting different places in England. The humans from other countries often visit here, but they miss out on some of the other towns and cities.”
“Why limit yourself to England? There are lots of places to see in Britain and Ireland.” Although Crowley kept his posture relaxed, he sounded fascinated by the idea
“Or we could see all of Europe.”
Crowley grinned at him. “I like the way you think, angel.” He pointed at him. “It would provide a nice change of scenery, not to mention all the food and sights.”
Aziraphale jokingly swatted at his finger. “Is this another one of your temptations, you old serpent?” He tried to take on a firm tone, but failed. “I won’t fall for it.”
“Now, if I told you, that would ruin the point, wouldn’t it?” Crowley failed to sound mysterious, switching quickly to sincerity. “Besides, with upstairs always watching what you do and when you do it, I’m guessing you haven’t had much chance to see the world for your own enjoyment. Now would be the time to do it.”
Aziraphale had to admit that he had a point. Even when he did have time to go to new places, he could always feel Heaven’s gaze on the back of his neck. The idea of sightseeing and gastronomy held appeal. However, he still had one question. “How are we going to get to all these places?” he asked. “We’ll have to cover a lot of ground and cross the Channel besides.”
“I have a car, remember?” Crowley made some vague hand gestures. “And last time I checked, we both have functioning wings, meaning we can fly to places much easier than the humans can. So what do you say?”
At this point, he couldn’t think of any other objections. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he said. “I’ll have to close the shop while I’m gone, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” The opposite, in fact, he thought to himself. “I can pack my belongings, and we can meet at mine before heading off.”
“I knew you would agree.” Crowley leaned back against the bench with a satisfied expression. A young couple walking by stared at them, and he lowered his sunglasses enough for them to glimpse his serpentine yellow eyes. They turned and bolted, bumping into other pedestrians along the way.
Aziraphale watched them and turned back to an amused Crowley, who returned his sunglasses to their usual place. “Really, my dear?” he asked.
“Old habits,” he quipped. “It’ll teach them not to stare.” He grabbed the remaining bread and straightened up. “Well, we still have all this bread left, and the ducks won’t feed themselves.”
His nonchalant attitude earned an eye roll from Aziraphale, who nonetheless grabbed some of the bread and said, “Yes, let’s.”
The bell above the door rang, and Aziraphale glanced up to see Crowley standing at the entrance. He wore a collared short-sleeved shirt and dark trousers in contrast to his usual suit, though he’d kept the jacket. A sleek black messenger bag hung from his shoulder, and Aziraphale guessed that it held more than what its size suggested.
“Hello, Crowley,” he greeted. “I see you have your things. I just need to grab mine from the back, and I’ll be ready.”
“No rush,” Crowley replied as he watched him hurry out of sight. He noticed that Aziraphale had chosen a more neutral jumper to wear under his jacket instead of tartan. When the angel returned, he knew why. His oversized luggage had a rather bold tartan pattern. “Why am I not surprised?” Crowley muttered to himself.
“Oh, hush,” Aziraphale said with a hand wave. “Tartan is stylish, and it is fitting for my idea on where to head first.”
In hindsight, Crowley realized that they had not actually decided where to head first. “What idea were you thinking of?” he asked. He guessed that the angel would want to visit a location with a lot of ancient libraries or fancy food, but that still left a lot of options.
“Scotland. Edinburgh, to be exact.” Aziraphale scribbled a note about being away on a trip and stuck the paper in the front window. “I’ve been there for work, but I want to see the city and how it’s doing now. Plus, if I remember right, the food and the history are rich.”
Now it was Crowley’s turn to be surprised. “Interesting. I thought you might have chosen a much farther-away location.”
“We can consider it a warm up before we head to the mainland.” Once he flipped the CLOSED sign, he turned back to Crowley. “Does that sound like a good plan?”
“I would say so. I haven’t been to Edinburgh in a while.” He grabbed his car keys from his jacket. “I’ll get the chance to drive the Bentley again.”
Aziraphale’s expression turned to a mix of amusement and fear. “All right,” he said. “Just make sure you don’t hit anyone while you’re driving, and please refrain from speeding at 110 miles per hour an hour again. I still have memories from last time.”
“No promises,” he replied as he headed outside.
The drive to Edinburgh was rather peaceful. Not a lot of cars were on the road, and the ones that were had the courtesy to shift lanes once they spotted the Bentley barreling toward them.
Strains of Beethoven drifted from the speakers, and they stayed Beethoven until Crowley replaced the tape with a new one. Aziraphale occupied himself with watching the landscape passing by, soaking in the view and not wanting to distract Crowley while he drove.
The next tape began with a familiar singer, and Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “I thought Adam stopped the Bentley from turning music into Queen.”
“He did,” Crowley replied, keeping his gaze on the road ahead. “I just got a Best of Queen tape for the car.” He glanced at Aziraphale and said, “I can enjoy Queen when not every tape turns into it, not to mention Freddie Mercury’s singing. The songs bring back memories.”
Aziraphale chose not to comment, figuring that at least Crowley hadn’t loaded up the car with be-bop. While Freddie sang about how he wanted to break free, he thought that the lyrics matched their current situation.
A few hours later, he noticed that more buildings began to occupy the landscape. He knew that their destination lay ahead, though the last time he had traveled, he could have sworn it had taken longer.
“Are we there already?” he asked. “I could have sworn that the trip took at least half a day.”
Crowley grinned at him. “But I wasn’t driving then.” More cars lay ahead as they entered the city limits, and he returned his efforts to navigating the busy streets. “Now, where should I park?”
“Don’t you normally create your own parking spaces?” Aziraphale didn’t want to admit it, but he was relieved that they would be walking. He had gotten the impression that Crowley would want to spend the whole trip in the Bentley, which would take away from the experience. Besides, Crowley’s speeding was beginning to make him feel nauseous, something that almost never happened to him.
Crowley eyed him from behind his sunglasses. “Now, where did you get the idea that I do that?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He steered to the side of the street, the pavement lines shifting to form a brand new parking space. “I’m just lucky.” He shoved the car keys back in his jacket and opened the car door. “We’re here.”
The smell hit Aziraphale as soon as the door opened. “Yep, we’re in Edinburgh.” He opened the door on his side and stepped onto the pavement. “The smell of breweries bring back memories of my trips here.”
Next to him, Crowley nodded and stuck his tongue out. “I get what you mean. It’s rather distinct.” A few pedestrians gave them strange looks, so he withdrew his tongue and said, “The day’s still young, and we have time to explore.” He made a gesture for Aziraphale to step ahead. “Since you’ve been here, perhaps you could lead the way for today?”
“I’d love to, my dear,” the angel replied, with the barest hint of sarcasm. Though he had retained a lot of old-fashioned mannerisms, he was not completely behind the times.
Their surroundings looked a lot like what Aziraphale remembered, and he had little issue navigating his way through the cityscape. Tall stone block buildings flanked both sides of the pavement. With the façades covered in neat grids of windows, Aziraphale wondered what went on inside them. A cool breeze ghosted between the snug buildings, adding a refreshing touch to the mild summer heat.
They had walked several blocks before Aziraphale realized that Crowley had not spoken since they left the Bentley. He glanced sidelong at the demon, wary.
To Aziraphale’s surprise, he was staring at the surrounding buildings with a thoughtful expression. And then he asked, “How long ago did you say you last came here?”
“Some years ago,” he replied, which might have meant two years or twenty. “Or at least that’s when I last came here on official business. I’ve stopped by to check on progress and for some mild good deeds. You know, a donation here and a compliment there, but I haven’t done much else.”
Crowley nodded. “That’s about what I did in Manchester, except in reverse. You’d be surprised what a few well-placed coins glued to the sidewalk can do.” They approached an intersection at the same time as a car, but the driver had a last-minute change of heart and turned, leaving the street empty to cross. “I also learned that humans nowadays can get really impatient when their technology lags, even for a few seconds.”
“One of the benefits of using older methods,” Aziraphale chimed, “is that you do not have to worry about pages lagging or buffering book illustrations.”
“Whatever you say, angel.”
Aziraphale sped up his pace for the next few blocks. Soon, he stood outside the castle that had been looming ahead of them. Memories of the structure’s creation came to mind as Aziraphale recalled how local tribal communities that once occupied the space merged, in time, to create a capital city.
“Here we are,” Aziraphale said, half to himself and half to Crowley. “Edinburgh Castle.”
Crowley also studied the structure before them. “Hm, it’s been a long time since I was here. I could have sworn it was a bit bigger.”
“If I recall, Edinburgh Castle has since been turned into a Historic Scotland site. People pay a fee and are able to discover the history that lies within.” He turned to face Crowley. “Shall we head in for a look? I haven’t seen the castle since it became a museum.”
It took a moment for him to answer. “It would be nice to take a quick stroll inside.” He began heading toward the entrance, following a herd of tourists with the same maps. “However, I would rather not pay the fifteen-pound fee.”
With a sigh of frustration, Aziraphale followed the demon as he weaved through the crowds trying to buy tickets. A mixture of blending with the crowd and supernatural influence ensured that they slipped by without notice, and Aziraphale quelled his guilt by deciding he would give a sizeable donation to wherever he visited next.
His resolution of staying only for a short stroll began to weaken when he stepped into the Great Hall. The lights hanging from the ceiling illuminated the bare, yet elegant space. Bright red walls contrasted against the dark wooden ceiling, and the empty fireplace along the back wall stood as the sole evidence that someone had once lived there. While he examined the empty armors, he spotted Crowley waving at him from the corner of his eye. It took a while to move past the many human tourists, but eventually reached his traveling partner. “What is it?” he asked.
“I found a map of the space. Apparently, there is an exhibition called Prisons of War below the Great Hall. Does that, er, sound interesting?” Aziraphale’s expression said it all, and he glanced back down at the map with obvious relief. “We could go to St. Margaret's Chapel, although I’d d rather avoid spending too much time in there. How about the Crown Jewels?”
“I thought we were only going to be here for a short time.” Aziraphale did not want to admit that his curiosity was piqued. “Is it far from here?”
“Not far according to the map, though even if it was, it wouldn’t be much of a problem for us.” When he glanced at the map again, he said, “Actually, the Crown Jewels would bring us closer to the entrance. We should at least make a stop there.”
It was difficult to see many items in the exhibit, what with the large crowd, but they caught a glimpse of the crown sitting on a decorative red pillow. Beneath the pillow was the scepter, and the Stone of Ages stood next to it. The occasional flash from a camera illuminated the space further, and it seemed that every time a person moved away, the gap was filled by another.
Aziraphale stood on his toes to get a better view, even hovering a few millimeters above the ground. After a few minutes, he sighed, “I still don’t know why humans crowd so much.”
“Well, you know how to do crowd-clearing,” Crowley replied from behind him, “if your mad dash to the Castle earlier was any indication.” He eyed the humans struggling to move to and from the display. “Should we head out and find other places?”
“That sounds like a good idea.” Aziraphale eyed the group next to them, who seemed a bit too eager to get to the front. “Besides, I would rather not stay long since we haven’t paid.”
“Of course.” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist and led him through the crowd. The occasional tourist complained, but most either moved out of the way or were too fixated on the Crown Jewels display to notice. Once outside, they headed back down the cobbled hill toward the streets they hadn’t yet explored.
“Well, that was interesting,” Crowley sighed.
“I agree,” Aziraphale said. “I’m glad that we got to stop by for a bit.”
Aziraphale ushered Crowley forward, assuring him that he had a destination in mind, and that it wasn’t far. Although the city’s parks had their appeal, they did not hold a candle to the place Aziraphale had in mind.
The entrance was easy to miss. Between the stone townhouses stood a plain gateway. Aziraphale spotted it and headed between the gateposts, occasionally turning back to make sure that Crowley followed.
Even without flashy signs or pamphlets, the sprawling green landscape with multiple trails let Aziraphale know that he had reached their destination: the Royal Botanic Garden.
The expansive lawn stretched out for at least a few blocks. Trees peppered the landscape, along with some shrubs and herbaceous plants. People walked and jogged along the parks, and a few chose to relax in the grassy spaces.
From a bench along the trail that they’d chosen, Aziraphale ignored the fact that Crowley had taken to scolding some shrubs and did his best to focus on what went on around the park. He knew that his friend was in the habit of scaring plants and wondered how that counted as an evil deed. However, he chose not to question it, because heaven knew Crowley rarely questioned him.
Speaking of books, the weather was ideal for reading outdoors. He grabbed a book from his backpack, one that had been written by a Scottish scholar, and opened to the first page. Since the book was a first edition, he made sure to hold it carefully and out of the sunlight. Fortunately, his bench was shaded by one of the trees. Before he knew it, he was lost in words, all background noises blurring and fading away.
Behind him, Crowley said, “Whatcha reading?”
Aziraphale jumped and nearly threw the book in the air. He tightened his grip on the pages and would have left marks if not for his neatly-trimmed nails.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, hoping to cover his startlement.
“Long enough to know that you can braid a lot of things into angel hair.” He laughed as Aziraphale’s hand shot up to check. “Kidding. But I’ll admit I was tempted. To say that you’re distracted while you read would be an understatement.”
Aziraphale huffed. “Well I thought you were busy taking care of the plants.” Even without hand gestures, he managed to convey the impression of air-quotes.
“Finished a while ago.” He glanced out at the park with satisfaction. “When we head out, you may notice they have better posture and greener leaves.”
“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale packed his book and straightened up. To his surprise, the sun had begun to set. “We’ve been here a while, haven’t we? Let’s get something to eat. If I recall, there are a lot of fine restaurants on the Royal Mile.”
Crowley mock-curtseyed. “Well, then. Lead the way, O wise guide.”
Not wanting to admit that perhaps the plants looked sharper than before, Aziraphale led them out of the Gardens. The longer he stayed in Edinburgh, the more he remembered about the streets and locations.
“What would you say you’re in the mood for?” he asked Crowley. “Something fancy, or would you prefer simpler local cuisine?”
“Do you even need to ask?” He sped up to keep pace with the angel. “Especially after all the meals we’ve had at the Ritz.”
“Well, I know a place that’s not far from here.” Aziraphale crossed the street and turned right. “It’s called the Scotch Malt Whiskey Society, and they have a rather nice dining room. You normally need a reservation, but I happen to have connections.”
Hearing this, Crowley raised his eyebrows. “It sounds like a nice place. I’m impressed, angel. Getting connected to posh society for personal benefit. I approve.”
“Oh, hush. They are actually rather nice.” He stopped in front of a gray brick building with two potted plants flanking the entrance. Gold-lined menus adorned the antique black streetlamps, and a waist-high gate ran along the perimeter of the establishment. The front door stood propped open, and Aziraphale stood to the side with a mock bow. “Besides, you’ll see why I did once you experience the dining room yourself.”
Any doubts that Crowley had had about the angel’s last statement dissolved once he entered the restaurant. The dining area had pristine white walls and plush seats. “Well, you weren’t kidding about the restaurant.”
Aziraphale made no effort to hide his amusement. “I told you it was a nice place.” He headed over to a table with two seats and a reservation paper. “Come on, dear boy. Here’s our spot.”
The brashness of Aziraphale’s actions caused Crowley to falter. “Angel, are you sure you’re alright? It’s not like you to take...” The name on the reservation paper read Mr. A. Ziraphale. It took him a moment to speak. “You managed to get a reservation?”
“Connections.” Aziraphale took his seat with the confidence of a householder sitting at the head of his dinner table. “I called the manager before you arrived at the bookstore, and he was happy to set aside a table. The menu has a lot of options. I’m sure you’ll find one to your liking.”
A member of the wait-staff spotted them and instantly headed over with a pair of menus in hand. Aziraphale greeted him, ordering the scallops, scotch beef, and chocolate mousse without even needing to glance at his menu.
Crowley glanced at his menu, and then set it to the side. “I’ll just order what you got. Let’s see how good the scallops and scotch beef are.”
“Excellent choices,” the angel replied, a smile forming on his lips. When the waiter appeared again, he handed him Crowley’s menu and said, “He’ll have my usual as well. Also, we’ll take the whole lot at the same time.”
They continued to discuss the history of the restaurant, which rather fascinated Crowley. He now started to wish that he had done something similar in Manchester, though he figured that since he had the Ritz, he didn’t have to worry much about connections. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but feel impressed at the angel’s resourcefulness.
The scallops came garnished with a mix of rice, egg, and fried onions. Likewise, the beef came in neat slices and had a side of vegetables. A scoop of caramel ice cream garnished the dark chocolate and whiskey mousse, and Crowley made a note to eat that before the ice cream melted.
When Crowley glanced over, he saw that Aziraphale had already eaten half of his scallops.
“That good?” he asked teasingly.
“You’ll see when you try it.” Aziraphale scooped some of the vegetables on his fork and ate it with a slice of steak. “While it’s not the Ritz, it is definitely high-quality.”
Crowley stuck a fork through one of the scallops and noticed how easily the prongs slid through it. The idea of garnishing scallops with kedgeree had not occurred to him, but the mixture of flavors convinced him that the inventor of the recipe deserved a medal.
“I’m surprised you don’t come here more often,” he said admiringly to Aziraphale.
“Well, when I did come here, it wouldn’t have looked good to my superiors if all I did was indulge in food.” Aziraphale had polished off his plates and moved on to the dessert. By some miracle, the ice cream had remained fully intact, or at least it did until it met its end by spoon stabbing. “You should eat your dessert, or at least stop it from melting.”
When Crowley glanced down and saw his ice cream had melted, he blessed under his breath. A second later, the ice cream resembled a lumpy blob of cream, and then a neat scoop like before. The sweetness of the caramel ice cream complemented the dark chocolate mousse, and Crowley doubted that the flavor would have been lost even with the ice cream melted.
“I must say, angel, you have really outdone yourself this time.”
“Why, thank you.” Aziraphale replied. He pulled out his wallet from his bag and set down a stack of pounds. “Part of why the wait-staff know me so well is my generous tipping. Charity is a virtue, after all.”
“All right, I’ll pay as well.” Crowley took out his wallet and set a stack of bills down. “Only because the food was really good, and money fuels greed.”
The waiter returned again, removing the plates and money. After exchanging farewells, the pair headed back to the street, where the sun had almost finished crossing the horizon.
“We were in there for a while, weren’t we?” Aziraphale said. “It’s getting rather late now.”
Crowley leaned against the gate railing and stretched his arms. “Perhaps we could find a place to sleep. You wouldn’t happen to have connections with any of the hotel owners, would you?”
“I don’t, unfortunately.” The angel turned to him. “However, I was hoping that we could head to our next destination.”
“Normally, I’m the one pushing for us to go to places while you want to stay holed up with the books,” Crowley groused. While he didn’t mind heading to their next destination, the angel’s mindset had caught him off guard.
“I can name multiple instances in the past where that was most certainly not the case.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a travel guide. “So where should we head next? I was debating between Amsterdam, Brussels, and Copenhagen.”
“Of course you have a travel guide,” Crowley muttered. “Amsterdam and Brussels are closer, which would make for a much easier flight. I would be interested in seeing the canals.”
“Me too. I heard that they have boat rides for tourists.” Aziraphale snapped the book shut and put it back in his bag. “So I guess we know where we’re going to head next. Shall we?”
“Hold on. I need to do something with the Bentley first. I can meet you there.”
“Sounds great. I’ll meet you along the coastline.” Aziraphale made a telephone gesture with his hand and held it to his face. “If we get separated,” he joked, “I’ll call.”
Aziraphale headed to one of the green spaces they had passed earlier. After ascertaining that nobody else was around, he opened his wings, which, despite having a few loose feathers, were nowhere near as messy as Crowley insisted. He took off at a speed slightly below that of sound to avoid creating a sonic boom.
As he ascended, he enjoyed the feeling of the wind rushing around him. The land below faded into water, and he kept his eye out for the coastline of Amsterdam and a certain well-dressed demon waiting on the coast.
He landed along the shore, making sure to tuck his wings in as soon as he landed. Though he used a small amount of supernatural influence to keep the humans from detecting him, he didn’t want to take any chances with getting caught.
Before he could dwell further on it, a dark flash in the distance caught his eye.
Crowley landed next to him, his wings still out and visible. “Well, this is a nice view.” He stared out at the sea for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on the waves. Even with sunglasses covering part of his face, awe still shone in his voice. “I wouldn’t mind spending the night here.”
“I thought you wanted to see the canals,” Aziraphale replied. “We don’t technically need to sleep, and besides, you can do that all you want back in London.”
“We may not need it, but it’s a nice indulgence.” Crowley turned in the opposite direction, toward the city. “What are you going to do in the meantime? The beach at night is rather nice.”
“Actually, I was hoping to scope out the city ahead of time. It helped today’s tour of Edinburgh that I was already familiar with the location.” Aziraphale studied Crowley. “Honestly, I should be the one asking you where you plan to go.”
The question did not faze him. “I can just find and borrow a hotel room. I’m sure that a city like this has a lot of places for tourists to stay the night.”
Although Aziraphale doubted that ‘borrow’ was the correct term, he did not question it. “Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Crowley headed out, so Aziraphale turned back to the sea again. Humans tended to stay away from the beach at night, leaving the place deserted.
After admiring the view for a while, he turned and set his sights on Amsterdam. He contemplated flying again, figuring it would make the trip quicker. In the end, he chose to walk, although he wasn’t above cheating by speeding his pace a few times.
Next: Part 2!
(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-02 10:30 pm (UTC)"Next to him, Crowley nodded and stuck his tongue out." Can I just say I ADORE crowley tasting the air with his tongue like a snake? Adore it.
I particularly liked the garden, and Crowley terrorizing the plants to great effect, and Aziraphale reading. Also Crowley's mock-curtsey was adorable.
And dinner sounds delicious, and I'm glad they enjoyed themselves. What fun!
Reply from the Writer
Date: 2019-01-28 06:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-07 12:00 am (UTC)And I can't wait to see what happens next. It sounds very interesting. I love their relationship in this
Reply from the Writer
Date: 2019-01-28 06:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-07 02:49 am (UTC)LOL OH CROWLEY. Whatever you need to tell yourself, buddy. Anyway, this is so gorgeously written. The travelogue feel is amazing. Well-done, Secret Author!
Reply from the Writer
Date: 2019-01-28 06:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-08 04:27 am (UTC)I'm still processing and digesting and making my way through this amazing stunning incredible gift!! The amount of detail and research and love you have put into this is simply monumental and I am left absolutely speechless. I cannot express how happy I am that you chose this prompt and had fun writing such an epic with it. I'll be back to leave more detailed feedback once I go thought it again but just. WOW. WOW. Thank you soo soo soo much for this unbelievable gift!!! Seeing this has been the highlight of my week. <3<3<3<3<3
Reply from the Writer
Date: 2019-01-28 06:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-08 09:35 pm (UTC)Reply from the Writer
Date: 2019-01-28 06:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-13 03:02 pm (UTC)"Not a lot of cars were on the road, and the ones that were had the courtesy to shift lanes once they spotted the Bentley barreling toward them."
>> this is so cute and funny at the same time, because it's the CARS having the courtesy, not their drivers XD I bet the Bentley is infamous amongst all cars in London and they know better than to cross it!
"“One of the benefits of using older methods,” Aziraphale chimed, “is that you do not have to worry about pages lagging or buffering book illustrations.”"
>> HAHAHA! He's right! :D
"He knew that his friend was in the habit of scaring plants and wondered how that counted as an evil deed. However, he chose not to question it, because heaven knew Crowley rarely questioned him."
>> We all wonder the same, Aziraphale, but we know Crowley is a little cinnamon roll XD But yes, he COULD question a lot of your deeds, so better don't ask ;)
"Behind him, Crowley said, “Whatcha reading?”
Aziraphale jumped and nearly threw the book in the air."
>> Hahaha! Oh no! XD
"“Long enough to know that you can braid a lot of things into angel hair.” He laughed as Aziraphale’s hand shot up to check. “Kidding.""
>> AHAHA! That is so cute, though!! <3
"“I called the manager before you arrived at the bookstore"
>> aaaaw! <3 such foresight!
"he opened his wings, which, despite having a few loose feathers, were nowhere near as messy as Crowley insisted"
>> hahaha XD
Oh, Amsterdam now! I'm curious to see what they'll do there :)