go_exchange | Happy Holidays, astarael

Title: The Arrangement

Recipient: astarael_paranoia

Rating: T

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Prompt/Summary: After the failed apocalypse, Crowley convinces Aziraphale to start a historical podcast. Shenanigans ensue.

They are sitting in the back room of the bookshop when Crowley suggests it. He is sprawled across the sofa, looking, even more than usual, as though he has only a vague idea of how a human skeleton is supposed to work. One hand dangles over the back of the sofa, clutching a wine glass. He waves it around wildly as he speaks, red drops swirling around inside the rim and threatening to fall to the ancient floorboards below, but always stopping just short of spilling over.

“Y’know what we should do, angel,” he drawls. “Podcast.”

“Pod—what?” Aziraphale blinks, attempts to pull himself upright in his chair, and then gives up. He rolls his head around to look toward Crowley.

“Podcast. ‘Ss like… like a radio show, but on the internet.”

Aziraphale considers this. He purses his lips, draws his eyebrows together in an expression that would look quite serious if he weren’t also going slightly cross-eyed. “Wh’would we talk about? And why… why?”

Crowley shrugs and brings his precariously balanced wine glass over the back of the sofa to take a long swig before answering. “Dunno, it could be fun,” he says. “We don’t have jobss anymore. We could talk about… ‘bout hissstory. We were there for all of it. Teach the humanss thingsss.”

Aziraphale nods seriously. “We would be good’t that,” he slurs. “Teachers.”

***

The Arrangement, episode 1

CROWLEY: Welcome to The Arrangement. I’m your host, Anthony J. Crowley.

AZIRAPHALE: And I’m A.Z. Fell.

CROWLEY: Really, angel?

AZIRAPHALE: What?

CROWLEY: What do the initials stand for?

AZIRAPHALE: …..

AZIRAPHALE: What does the J stand for?

CROWLEY: …..

CROWLEY: Anyway, this is a podcast about history, and today we’re going to be talking about the Roman Empire.

AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, the late Empire was lovely.

CROWLEY: You only think so because of that wanker, Constantine, and all those boring “scholars” you used to hang around. I thought it was much more fun when we were all drunk and shouting io Saturnalia!

AZIRAPHALE: Of course you did.

CROWLEY: Come now, angel. I remember you enjoying quite a bit of Roman wine yourself.

AZIRAPHALE: I—well, yes, the wine was nice. But—

CROWLEY: Some of it was pretty bad, actually.

AZIRAPHALE: Anyway. We were speaking of Constantine, I believe...

CROWLEY: Yes, the bugger that ruined Rome.

AZIRAPHALE: The founder of a city that lasted for over a thousand years!

CROWLEY: Byzantium was there before he got there. I liked Byzantium.

AZIRAPHALE: Yes, fine, and Istanbul is there now. But Constantinople was quite nice.

CROWLEY: Their wine was terrible, though.

AZIRAPHALE: Not all of it! And there was a lovely little place near the Prosphorion that made a wonderful koptoplakous.

CROWLEY: I preferred Rome. Actually, I preferred Pictland, but as far as capital cities go…

***

Crowley has nearly forgotten about his drunken proposal by the time Aziraphale brings it up again. It has been almost a week, and he is once again sprawled across the sofa in the angel’s back room with a glass of wine in hand. They have just returned from dinner at the Ritz, still mostly sober, but riding the natural high of good food and better company.

Aziraphale reaches for the bottle, tops off his own glass, then leans back in the chair across from him and says casually, “So, my dear boy… When are we doing this pod… thing?”

Crowley splutters and nearly chokes on a larger-than-advisable sip of wine. “Podcast, angel. Wh—I—didn’t think we were actually doing that.”

“Well, why not?”

“Er, I don’t know, I didn’t… it was sort of a joke.”

“I think it sounds fun.”

Aziraphale beams at Crowley, and Go—Sat—Someone help him, the angel looks so genuine.

Crowley sighs. “Yeah, it might be. I’ll get some equipment and bring it along next time.”

***

The Arrangement, episode 27

CROWLEY: Hello, and welcome to another episode of The Arrangement. I’m your host, Anthony J. Crowley.

AZIRAPHALE: And I’m Azira—A.Z. Fell.

CROWLEY: [snickers] Anyway, today’s topic is the Tudors.

AZIRAPHALE: That television program you made us watch was terrible.

CROWLEY: [laughs] I never actually told you it was good. Anyway, we’re talking about the royal house, not the program. They were an interesting bunch, I got a few commendations out of Henry VIII.

AZIRAPHALE: Crowley, you didn’t!

CROWLEY: Didn’t what? Get the commendations? ‘Course I did. Never actually met the man himself, though.

AZIRAPHALE: I did, once. He was quite arrogant. Elizabeth, though…

CROWLEY: Oh, Elizabeth was lovely. Got a little odd at the end, though.

AZIRAPHALE: She did, yes. Still, I always liked her better than Victoria.

CROWLEY: I thought you loved that one.

AZIRAPHALE: I enjoyed her reign.

CROWLEY: [darkly] Yeah, you did, didn’t you?

AZIRAPHALE: It was nice! You would have liked it too, if you hadn’t slept through the whole thing!

CROWLEY: I’m certain I wouldn’t have liked what you were getting up to.

AZIRAPHALE: What is that supposed to mean?

CROWLEY: ...Discreet gentlemen's clubs? Oscar Wilde?

AZIRAPHALE: Oh, for—I didn’t!

CROWLEY: Whatever, angel.

AZIRAPHALE: Why would it matter, anyway?

CROWLEY: Because I—I mean… it doesn’t. How many kings and queens have you met, anyway?

AZIRAPHALE: Most of them, I think. Crowley…

CROWLEY: Later. It’s fine, angel. You ever meet James I? Now, he was an interesting one…

***

Crowley is very glad he’s alone when he decides to Google their podcast. They have apparently become a cult hit, and their fans are on Twitter and Tumblr speculating about their immortality. People have decided that they are aliens, time lords, vampires… a few have even taken his nickname for Aziraphale at face value and gotten fairly close to the truth. Their human aliases have also become the subject of speculation, as well as plenty of jokes. He finds himself frequently referred to as Anthony Janthony Crowley, an embarrassing moniker that he’ll never admit is not all that far from the truth.

Amid the social media speculation, a Wikipedia article, and a few reviews, he finds something called An Archive of Our Own, where people have posted hundreds of stories about himself and Aziraphale, many of which are shockingly sexual. Some of them are terrible, but others are, well… kind of hot. Crowley gets lost in the archive for a while, clicking from one story to another, astounded at the creativity of the humans writing them, embarrassed and aroused in equal measure.

He is midway through a story involving some very creative uses of his snake form—he never should have posted that episode they recorded while drunk, of course these bloody humans picked up on his sibilance—when the shrill ring of his mobile sounds from across the room, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He slinks over to pick it up, face burning, unsurprised but feeling vaguely guilty at the sight of Aziraphale’s name on the screen.

“Hullo?”

“Crowley!”

The demon shakes his head. Aziraphale called him, and somehow he still sounds surprised to hear Crowley’s voice at the other end of the line. “What’s up, angel?”

“I was just thinking about trying out that new sushi restaurant we saw the other day, and well… I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”

Crowley smiles, already turning toward the door, and then sees his laptop, still sitting open to one of those archive stories. He feels the heat rising under his skin, and slams the lid shut on his way by. “Er, yeah, sure, angel. Be there in a bit,” he says quickly as he runs for the door. He takes the stairs two at a time, needing to put as much distance as possible between himself and the dark secrets contained in his browser history.

***

The Arrangement, episode 34

CROWLEY: Hello, and welcome back to The Arrangement. I’m your host, Anthony J. Crowley.

AZIRAPHALE: And I’m A.Z. Fell.

CROWLEY: Today’s topic—and this one’s for you, angel—the Library of Alexandria.

AZIRAPHALE: Oh, I did love Alexandria. I miss the library.

CROWLEY: I’m pretty sure you still have most of it in your shop.

AZIRAPHALE: I… may have kept a few scrolls, yes. But that is quite an exaggeration, my dear.

CROWLEY: Hopefully we all know that story about the fire’s not true by now. The real reason the library’s not still around? Aziraphale.

AZIRAPHALE: Crowley!

CROWLEY: What? I’m not wrong.

AZIRAPHALE: I— [huffs] I did not destroy the library.

CROWLEY: [laughs] All right, angel. I’m pretty sure no human ever spent as much time there as you did, though. So tell us about it.

AZIRAPHALE: Oh, it was wonderful. Shelves of scrolls, lined up as far as one could see. Tens of thousands of texts….

***

Crowley wakes up with his head pounding. He cracks one eye open to see the table in front of him littered with empty bottles and glasses, and realizes that he is still on his sofa, and that he forgot to sober up before he passed out the night before. He groans and covers his eyes with one arm, trying to fall back to sleep, but the pounding in his head is loud. And it’s talking to him. And it sounds like Aziraphale.

Suddenly, Crowley remembers their parting the night before. Aziraphale refused to stay at his flat, but had promised to turn up this morning to record their next episode of The Arrangement. He groans louder and reaches one hand up to snap his fingers. The door to his flat creaks open, and the pounding noise stops.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s cautious voice floats toward him down the hall. “Oh, dear.”

He feels a hand on his shoulder, and another appears in front of his face, holding a glass of water. “Here, my dear. Take this, go get yourself cleaned up and sober. I’ll see if I can get us set up for recording.”

Crowley takes the proffered glass, but leaves it dangling between his fingers and closes his eyes again while Aziraphale turns toward the table. He hears the soft hum of his laptop waking from sleep, the click of the keys as Aziraphale logs him in.

“Oh, my… oh. Crowley, what is this?”

Crowley squints toward the screen, idly wondering what Aziraphale could possibly have messed up so quickly. Then he shoots upright, a sudden surge of adrenaline forcing him into sobriety. The water glass drops from his fingers and shatters on the floor.

Archive of Our Own. The page title glares out at him, and Crowley’s heart jumps into his throat as he remembers exactly what he had last been reading before Aziraphale’s phone call the previous night.

“Nnnnnn… it’s nothing. Not what it looks like, angel,” he sputters, lunging for the laptop.

“I don’t—know what it looks like,” Aziraphale replies carefully. A faint blush colors his cheeks, and Crowley can feel his own face burning. He casts his gaze desperately around the room in search of a pair of sunglasses, but to no avail.

“I looked up the podcast,” he says finally. “Found some… weird stuff. We have fans.”

“I see.”

Crowley rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, looking away from the angel. “I might have… gotten carried away. Morbid curiosity, you know. Apparently they think we should…” He gestures vaguely in the space between them.

Aziraphale clears his throat. “Yes, well, I… I can see that.”

Crowley collapses back onto the sofa, head in his hands. After a moment, Aziraphale sits stiffly next to him.

“What do you think?” the angel asks softly.

Crowley’s head snaps up. “I—what?”

Aziraphale sets his jaw. “What do you think?” he repeats. “The fans think we should…” He repeats an approximation of Crowley’s earlier gesture. “But what did you think of… that?”

Crowley wheezes, opening and shutting his mouth wordlessly.

“Crowley, look at me,” Aziraphale says forcefully, and he is suddenly, uncomfortably aware of exactly how close the angel is sitting. “What did you think?”

“I… liked… some of it,” the demon admits at last.

Aziraphale leans closer. “May I kiss you?” he whispers.

“Ngk.” Crowley nods, eyes wide, and then Aziraphale’s hand is in his hair, and his tongue is in his mouth, and he is certain he’s about to spontaneously combust.

***

The Arrangement, episode 35

CROWLEY: Hello, and welcome back to The Arrangement. I’m Anthony J. Crowley.

AZIRAPHALE: And I’m A.Z. Fell.

CROWLEY: Sorry for the late episode, guys, but we’ve been… rather busy.

AZIRAPHALE: Yes, quite.

CROWLEY: What are we talking about this week, angel?

AZIRAPHALE: Well, it has come to my attention that there’s been some… speculation about us. So I thought perhaps we should give the fans what they want.

CROWLEY: I—what?

AZIRAPHALE: Our history. The fact that we’ve been on Earth for all of it.

CROWLEY: ….

AZIRAPHALE: See, about six thousand years ago, there was a garden…

CROWLEY: Oh, right. And I was a snake. And there were no dinosaurs.

AZIRAPHALE: No, but there was an apple tree. And I had a flaming sword.

CROWLEY: Adam and Eve were there, too. I gave them fruit, and God kicked them out of the Garden.

AZIRAPHALE: And then you came slithering up to me at the gate and said, “Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

CROWLEY: [laughs] Well, it did. And you told me you gave your sword away.

AZIRAPHALE: And then you fell in love with me.

CROWLEY: [chokes] I—well, yeah, I did.

[muffled background noises]