Happy Holidays, HolyCatsAndRabbits!
Dec. 15th, 2022 05:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeTitle: Critical Upgrade (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Tech)
Recipient: HolyCatsAndRabbits
Rated: T
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary: AU: Aziraphale likes his vintage computer equipment, but it's causing problems with his colleagues. Gabriel mandates an upgrade, and Crowley from IT is assigned to make it all work.
"This isn't working any more, Aziraphale." Polished oak squeaked quietly as Gabriel shifted his position in the upholstered high-backed chair in Aziraphale's office.
"What isn't working?" Aziraphale asked, leaning back in his own chair. He reached out and adjusted the already-adjusted row of pens and pencils that lay on his blotter.
Gabriel waved a hand at Aziraphale's desk. "This. Your computer—if that can still be classified as a computer." He gestured at the antique phone that was nearby. "Your phone."
Aziraphale's gaze travelled to the offending items. "They're all in perfectly good working order," he said.
More squeaks as Gabriel leaned forward in the chair. "That's not what I mean and you know it. We've had this discussion before. You need to upgrade to the same computer everyone else uses, and the same telephone."
"But I'm used to these!"
Gabriel snorted. "You've probably had that computer since we got them in the eighties. It isn't capable of running an email program, much less Zoom. Your phone is lovely but it certainly can't handle voicemail or conference calls."
"But I—"
Gabriel held up his hand. "I don't care if this is what you're used to. I don't care if you don't want to change. This is—this has been causing problems for the past few years, but it's gotten worse and it needs to change. You need to change."
"Problems?" Aziraphale glanced nervously at the computer and telephone.
"Problems," Gabriel repeated. "Email is a huge problem. You think it's fine because you distribute your typed, three-part memos, but it's not fine. Your co-workers can't reply to them, and they need to be scanned to be digitised into the system. Your system can't run Zoom for meetings."
"But I've been going to Michael's office and getting on hers," Aziraphale said. "We're almost always in the same meetings. If I'm not I go to Sandalphon's office."
"Again, you're missing the point. You need your own. And your phone - you need to be able to be on a conference call without running to one of our offices to sit with us. And you need to be able to access voicemail in case someone wants to leave you a message." Gabriel jerked his thumb over at the dot-matrix printer on the carved oak side table. "That has to go, too—you need a proper laser printer with a scanner."
"All of it has to go?" Aziraphale's voice took on a tremble.
"All of it," Gabriel said. "I think I've been pretty lenient with your office in general, Aziraphale. As a Director, you certainly have more leeway with your office decor than lower management, but I don't think any of us expected you to turn your office into a country estate library. I must admit that it suits your Rare and Antiquarian department, though, and it looks very elegant."
He rose from the chair. "But the items you use to perform your duties must be the same as the other Directors. Your insistence on using extremely outdated equipment is interrupting our work flow and causing extra work for your fellow employees. I've asked IT to send someone up tomorrow with your new equipment, and they will also help you get up to speed with the software you need to use. Can I count on you to cooperate with the technician they send you?"
Aziraphale bit his lip. He hadn't realised that he had been causing so much extra work. "I will," he said.
"Excellent," Gabriel said, extending his hand. "For the most part, Aziraphale, I find you to be very dependable."
Aziraphale rose and shook it.
Gabriel walked to the door, then turned to face Aziraphale. "This isn't negotiable, Aziraphale. Now, I don't expect you to learn to use everything overnight. The tech will help you, and I'll give you til the end of the quarter—that's in a little over three weeks. I want you to understand that if you are unable to use the same equipment that I and the rest of the company use, I'm going to have to have a conversation with the CEO about whether you are still a good fit for this company. Don't make me have to fire you."
* * *
"Present for you." Beelzebub dropped a stapled packet of requisition forms onto the top of the paper blob that was Crowley's desk.
"Don't really care for your presents," Crowley replied, reaching for the packet. "They usually involve work."
"Well, since you work here—for me, I might add—that makes it appropriate, doesn't it?"
Crowley made a rude noise and glanced at the list of computer equipment. "What's this for? Setup for a new hire? I thought that was Hastur and Ligur's department, not your favourite Network Administrator." He grinned at Beelzebub. "Unless you fired them. Please tell me you fired them."
Beelzebub rolled her eyes. "No, I did not, and you are my only Network Administrator. This is a special situation, Crowley. The Luddite is being upgraded."
Crowley sat up straight in his chair. "Aziraphale, all the way Upstairs? The one who insists on using one of the company's original systems? No way!"
"The order came directly from Himself."
"Huh. Seem a bit strange that our Chief Operating Officer is doing the requisitioning," Crowley said. He took a closer look at the list. "Wow, whole kit and caboodle here. But why me?"
Beelzebub leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. "Because it's more than just new equipment. Gabriel wants him to be able to use email and Zoom, as well as phone conferencing and our productivity suite. He also wants this accomplished by the end of the quarter."
Crowley whistled. "That's a pretty tall order. Going to require some finesse."
"Hence my presence in your office." Beelzebub said. "You can work on his system build today, and then get started up in Aziraphale's office tomorrow afternoon. I'll cover any network issues that come up while you're working with him—this project is to be your priority."
After she left, Crowley cleared a space on his desk, grabbed his notepad, and started making some notes. It was going to be a challenge; even though he'd never met Aziraphale, the man was something of a legend in the IT Department. Somehow, over the years he'd managed to avoid every technology upgrade, and was still using the equipment purchased when the company was started in the early eighties.
Crowley was actually looking forward to getting his hands on the computer. An Amstrad CPC 464! From 1984! And still working!
Thinking about the old computer—and its equally old operating system—made him pause. The poor bloke was already going to be overwhelmed with new equipment and software; just trying to find everything was going to be stressful. Crowley tapped his mechanical pencil on the notepad. Maybe he could come up with some ways to make the upgrades a little less painful.
He reached for his phone and dialled an extension. "Dagon! You're just the person I need. Ah! You've heard? Good. I'll bring you the requisition forms shortly, I'll need the items as quickly as possible."
* * *
Crowley whistled an aimless tune while he watched the elevator's floor indicator go up, up, up. His cart was fully loaded with computer equipment—system, monitors, printer, accessories, cables, and a new phone. Dagon had pulled the items with admirable speed, leaving Crowley most of the previous afternoon to get everything ready, and do a little googling too.
The indicator passed the 30th floor. Years ago, someone in IT had divvied up the floors and assigned them names; floors 37 to 40 were the 'Levels of Heaven,' while the sub-floors that made up IT, Maintenance, and Storage were dubbed the 'Circles of Hell.' Everyone else were in the 'Realms of Earth.' It was much more fun to say you needed to go to 'the 22nd Realm of Earth' instead of the 22nd floor.
Crowley, of the 1st Circle of Hell, was currently on his way to the 1st Level of Heaven.
The elevator politely dinged to let him know he had reached the 37th floor.
"Hope I don't get altitude sickness," Crowley murmured to himself as he swiped his access card and rolled the cart down the carpeted hallway. He didn't think he'd ever been up this high; this floor was for all the Directors and their staff. One floor up housed all the Vice Presidents and Executive Officers, and, of course, the CEO had the 40th floor to Herself.
He double-checked his notepad for Aziraphale's office number, made the appropriate number of turns, waved at the secretaries, and then knocked on a panelled oak door.
"Come in."
Crowley had to stifle a gasp when he entered the office. He felt like he'd gone back at least a century in time. An oriental rug covered the beige carpeting, and brocade curtains trimmed the large bank of windows on the back wall. The other walls were lined with antique oak bookshelves that were packed to the brim with equally antique books, and everything was lit by an assortment of stained glass floor lamps.
In the centre of the room was an oak desk large enough to host a dance party, and at that desk sat a man whose cream-and-beige tartan attire suited the era that had been created. He rose and approached Crowley with an extended hand.
"Hello, I'm Aziraphale," he said. "You must be the chap from IT, from the look of your cart. You are—?"
Crowley blinked. "Crowley," he replied, and shook the offered hand. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected, but he had not expected someone near his own age. He had certainly not expected a pair of rather attractive hazel eyes, which were currently gazing at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"I was expecting one of the two fellows who are usually up here to fix things," Aziraphale said. "You look like management, although I must say I haven't seen many managers wearing all black, along with dark sunglasses."
"I'm the network administrator," Crowley said. "But it was decided that you were a special case."
"Ah, I guess I am," Aziraphale gave him a tight, nervous smile.
"Fluorescent light bothers my eyes," Crowley added.
"Pardon?"
Crowley tapped his wire-rimmed sunglasses. "Although I don't think I'll have a problem in your office."
Aziraphale laughed, and it transformed him. "No, you won't have a problem here—I can't stand fluorescent light, it's so harsh." He waved a hand at his desk. "Well, I guess I should let you get on with it. Would you prefer that I leave?"
"No need," Crowley said, and he walked around to where Aziraphale normally sat and pulled out his phone to take a few pictures of the desktop setup, as well as the computer screen. "In fact, it will help if you stay, because I want to make this process easy for you."
Aziraphale's smile faded. "I don't think that will be possible," he said, as he sank into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Nonsense," Crowley said, and he began shutting the old system down.
Aziraphale gave him a sceptical look. "I'm well aware that I have a reputation, and a nickname." He scowled. "The 'Luddite.'"
"Yes, well, you're not a real Luddite," Crowley said from under the desk, while he disconnected wires and cables. "Real ones don't like any technology at all. You just like... older technology."
"Exactly!" Aziraphale said. "All this works perfectly, there's really no need to replace it."
Crowley popped his head up from beneath the desk. "There is, though, which is why I'm here." He saw a notepad on the desk and tossed it to Aziraphale. "Here. While I'm getting the new machine hooked up you can make a couple of lists for me. I want to know who you call regularly, and who you send those ancient three-part memos to."
Aziraphale took the notepad. "How do you know about the memos?"
Crowley wiggled his fingers. "We're IT, we know everything."
The next half hour passed in a somewhat companionable silence. Crowley listened to the scritch of Aziraphale's fountain pen (of course he wrote with a fountain pen) while he hooked up all the new equipment. When he finished all the connections, Crowley got up and waved at the empty chair. "All done! Come on over and we'll get started."
"Two monitors?" Aziraphale asked, wide eyed. He handed Crowley the notepad.
"Aw yeah," Crowley replied. "That's a bare minimum. I have four."
Aziraphale gaped at him, and then sat in his chair.
Crowley pulled one of the extra chairs over and sat next to him. "Okay, let's turn this baby on." He pointed to the tower, which he'd situated on a far corner of the desk. "The blue button."
* * *
Aziraphale pressed the button and watched as the screens displayed the company logo and other startup information.
So far, it hadn't been nearly as horrible as he'd anticipated. Crowley seemed very knowledgeable, and personality-wise he was a vast improvement over the two men who normally took care of things.
He glanced over at the new phone and sighed. So much plastic! He reached over and brushed a fingertip over the old one which now sat off to the side.
"That's a nice piece of kit," Crowley said. "1950s?"
"1958," Aziraphale replied. "Bakelite GPO No. 26." He peered at the main computer screen, which was now displaying a set of spinning dots. "What's it doing?"
"Ugh, updating," Crowley said. "Even though I just set this up yesterday."
The updates finally finished, and Aziraphale was shocked to see the same screen as he had on the old machine. "This looks like my old computer! Are you sure you disconnected it?"
Crowley grinned at him and pointed at the old machine, which was now on the cart. "Did a bit of googling yesterday, and I decided to have a little fun with the desktop."
"This is wonderful! You even have the old icons! How very clever of you."
Crowley rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well, I thought it might help to have things look familiar. You used Word Perfect, but Word is really very similar so I don't think you'll have too much trouble. And a spreadsheet's a spreadsheet, but I think you'll like Excel much better than Lotus 1-2-3 once you get used to it."
They spent the next few hours exploring the new system. Crowley was right—the newer programs had a few more bells and whistles, but the mechanics were mostly the same, and under his guidance Aziraphale was able to create a dummy letter, as well as a dummy report, and print both out on the new laser printer.
"That was so quick!" Aziraphale said as he took the sheets of paper from the top of the printer. "But what do I do about extra copies?"
"Easy-peasy," Crowley said. "You can print as many copies as you want—although you won't need a 'file' copy, since this document is stored on our network. Also, with some of these you won't even need to print them out, you'll just email them."
"Hmm," Aziraphale said, "perhaps I won't need as many of those filing cabinets any more." He waved a hand at a small bank of cabinets next to one of the bookshelves.
"Probably not," Crowley said. "Everything gets backed up, so you never have to worry about losing anything."
"Excellent," Aziraphale said. "Room for more books!"
Crowley laughed. "All right, let's introduce you to email."
Email wasn't that horrible, either—Aziraphale was surprised to see that it was mostly set up the same way as a memo form. He watched as Crowley created a contact list from the names he'd put on the memo pad, along with his own name. "I'll be emailing you?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Crowley said. "We're going to email each other a lot for the next week or so, until you get comfortable with things. I've also put my extension on your new phone, so you can call me when you need help." He glanced at his watch. "Let's call today done, it's after four. I need to get your old stuff downstairs, and tomorrow morning I'll work on getting your old files off there and into a network folder." He rose from his chair and moved it back in front of the desk.
Aziraphale rose as well. "Let me treat you to dinner when you're done downstairs," he said. "You helped me so much today."
Crowley's grin returned. "Sounds good to me. I'll ring you on the new phone when I'm done—call it a pop quiz." He loaded the rest of Aziraphale's old equipment onto the cart. "See you soon," he said, and then he rolled the cart out the door and into the hallway.
"See you soon," Aziraphale repeated. Perhaps this upgrade wouldn't be so bad after all.
While he waited for Crowley's phone call, Aziraphale puttered around his office and rearranged some things on his desk. A little over an hour later, the two men were finishing up an excellent sushi dinner and enjoying a second bottle of wine.
"I can't believe he said he's going to fire you," Crowley said as he refilled their glasses.
"Only if I can't 'upgrade' myself in time," Aziraphale said. "I must admit, I was very worried this morning, before you came up. But you're a good teacher, and after today I'm starting to think it might be possible."
"Of course it's possible," Crowley said.
"You're very kind," Aziraphale said.
"Pish," Crowley retorted. "Your boss clearly thinks you're an idiot, which you're not. I'll tell you something, it took a considerable amount of savvy to keep that old clunker going, AND fend us off from upgrading you for all these years. I still don't know how you did it for so long."
"I must admit I'm not looking forward to the Zoom thingy," Aziraphale said, as he slowly rotated his wineglass. "Everyone looks so strange on screen, in all the little boxes."
Crowley snorted. "Everyone does look strange, so don't worry about it. You've got this. Once you've got a couple under your belt you'll be a pro."
"You really think so?" Aziraphale asked wistfully. "You think I can meet Gabriel's deadline?"
Crowley leaned forward in his chair. "Yes. And I'm going to help you not only meet his deadline, but beat it by at least a week. Because he's an ass." He held out his wineglass. "Are you in?"
Aziraphale grinned at him. "He is rather unpleasant," he said, and he clinked his glass against Crowley's. "I'm in."
"Excellent," Crowley said. "Let the battle begin."
* * *
So far, Aziraphale was surviving his first morning alone with the new equipment. His 'lessons' with Crowley were to be in the afternoons, so in between his morning meetings Aziraphale continued to explore the new programs, with the help of some books that Crowley had sent up.
A soft chime told Aziraphale that he had a new email. He checked his notes, and opened it.
Aziraphale chuckled at the cheeky message. He pulled the keyboard closer and typed a reply.
He clicked on the Send button. Email wasn't so bad after all! It could be fun!
The phone rang, and Aziraphale's nose wrinkled in distaste as he picked up the new handset. "Good morn—"
"No-no-no-no-no," Crowley's voice crackled on the line. "Absolutely do NOT compose an email in all caps."
Aziraphale blinked. "But it's easier and quicker to type that way," he said.
"Absolutely not. Only assholes type in all caps, it's considered 'yelling.'" There was a pause. "Although, people with vision issues get a pass. Did you type that way because you thought I had a vision issue?"
"Erm, no," Aziraphale said.
"Then NO. Also, don't use ellipses like that, it makes you sound like an old man. Use 'L-O-L' or one of its variants."
Oh, dear. "Lawl?"
Crowley sighed. "Laughing Out Loud."
"Oh! Ha!"
"I'm hanging up now. See you later—and no more caps!"
* * *
The rest of the work week flew by in a mostly pleasant blur. Crowley came up every after lunch every day, and they would spend each afternoon either going over a new program or revisiting previous lessons. After four days, Aziraphale had a good grasp of both Word and Excel, and was slowly getting more comfortable with Outlook.
They'd quickly fallen into the habit of having dinner after work, taking turns picking up the bill. Crowley was an entertaining dinner companion, and so far had proven to have good taste in restaurants.
Aziraphale found himself curiously adrift over the weekend. While he liked his job—ultimatums from Gabriel aside—Aziraphale was not a workaholic, and he enjoyed his weekends. But this time he found himself looking forward to Monday, and when he took his usual Sunday walk to feed the ducks at St James' Park, he wondered if Crowley would enjoy the walk too.
Monday came along, as Mondays do, and Aziraphale took a small measure of comfort in the fact that everything he'd learnt the week before had not leaked out of his brain over the weekend. He'd been able to check his emails and have a report ready to hand out during his usual morning meeting with his staff, who were very supportive and complimentary of his progress.
At lunchtime he'd poked at his salad and kept checking the clock, waiting for 1 pm.
1 pm sharp had Crowley knocking on his door, laptop in hand. "It's time to work on Zoom," he said.
Over the next few hours, Crowley helped him adjust the camera and microphone that sat atop his main monitor, went over the program's settings, and then sat across from him as they went through a series of dummy meetings.
It was very strange to see Crowley on the monitor and in the chair opposite him.
"I think we can try having someone else with us," Crowley said. "My boss agreed to have a quick session, let me see if she's ready and I'll send out the invite."
Minutes later, Aziraphale was in a Zoom meeting with Crowley and Beelzebub.
"Thank you for loaning me Crowley for this endeavour," Aziraphale said. "He has been wonderful."
"Don't say that, he'll think he can ask me for a rise," Beelzebub said. "But I'm glad to hear that you're progressing so well. I'm looking forward to seeing Gabriel's face when you beat his stupid deadline. Crowley!"
Crowley waved. "Hi boss! Since I'm wonderful, can I have a rise?"
"No. I imagine you're going to wrangle me in for practising conference calls?"
"If you don't mind."
Beelzebub shrugged. "At least they'll be quick. Oh, and Aziraphale—Dagon, our Systems Administrator, has asked if you could come visit him at some point after this is all done; he'd like to go over your old computer with you. He's very excited about it, said he's never seen one of those models in such good working order."
Aziraphale beamed with pride. "I would be happy to."
"All right, I have to get some actual work done before the afternoon runs away from me. Keep up the good work, both of you." Her box on the screen blinked out, leaving just him and Crowley.
"Okay, I think that's enough Zooming for today." Crowley logged out of the meeting and closed his laptop. "Tomorrow we'll work with the phone—we'll start with holding and transferring, and then we'll do some basic conferencing." He handed Aziraphale a laminated card. "Here's your homework. This has the different key combinations for the phone. I think it will go easier tomorrow if you read this through a few times, so that you're at least a little familiar with it when we get started."
"Oh! That's a good idea," Aziraphale said. "I've also been re-writing my notes each day, it's been helping me remember everything.
"Good idea. It's my turn tonight, right? There's a nice Indian place nearby that I think you'd like. They make a fabulous vindaloo."
"Oooh, that sounds lovely," Aziraphale said.
"See you soon," Crowley waved and left.
"See you soon."
* * *
* * *
"What am I going to do?" Aziraphale poured some more wine into his glass. "It's a week early!"
They'd managed to get a relatively quiet nook in a nearby pub that made excellent haddock & chips. Quiet enough to discuss the drama of the day, anyway.
"You'll be fine," Crowley told him for what had to be at least the twentieth time. Gabriel's email had sent his new friend into a fine tizzy. "But I'll say it again, your boss is an ass."
"He does type in all caps," Aziraphale said. "And he uses ellipses badly." He drank some of his wine.
Crowley noticed the slight tremble in Aziraphale's hand, and cursed inwardly. One stupid email and all the confidence that Aziraphale had gained in the past week and a half was wiped out. "I'm telling you, you'll be fine. I will help you be fine." He pushed the basket of chips toward Aziraphale. "Have some more chips, you need to soak up the wine."
Aziraphale snorted, but he helped himself to more. "I should have suspected he'd do something like this."
"Well, then, it's a good thing that we were already working towards having you ready by Friday." Crowley snagged a chip. "You really are mostly there, Aziraphale. I think the biggest thing will be to not let him fluster you. Take your time, and use your notes—I looked them over this afternoon, and they're fine."
"If we get through this," Aziraphale waved a chip at him, "we're having dinner at the Ritz."
Crowley whistled. "The Ritz! Ooh la la! That's a nice bit of incentive."
Aziraphale beamed at him. "It is, isn't it? Shall we get another bottle?"
Crowley waved at the waiter. "Sure, why not? But no wine tomorrow night, we'll need to be at the top of our game on Friday."
* * *
The antique wall clock chimed the half hour.
Thirty minutes left, Aziraphale thought. Crowley should be arriving at any moment.
His phone rang.
"Aziraphale," Crowley said, "Beelzebub just told me that Gabriel asked her to revoke my badge's access to your floor."
Aziraphale sat up ramrod straight. "He what? This is ridiculous." He pressed his fingers against his throbbing temple.
"I agree, and so does Beelzebub—but she said that she has to do it because it was a direct request. Gabriel really wants to hang you out to dry."
"I don't understand," Aziraphale said. "Why issue the challenge in the first place if he clearly wants me to fail?"
"You're not going to fail."
"I was really counting on having you here," Aziraphale said.
"I'll be there, just not physically."
"How so? More 'IT' magic?"
"Sort of," Crowley said. "Now that you have a newer machine, I was able to install our remote assistance software on it. I can log into your machine from my desk and either completely control it, or share control. Look at your screen."
Aziraphale complied, and saw a pop-up window in the middle of the screen. Grant the Technician access? He clicked on the 'Accept' button.
His pointer suddenly started moving on its own.
"Crowley, is that you?"
The pointer moved in a couple of circles. "Yeah, it's me. Now if you move the mouse you'll get control back." Aziraphale watched as a messaging program was installed, and a minute later a chat window popped open on the second monitor. "This is what we'll do; if you get stuck and need to ask me a question, type it in this chat window. I can answer your question, and if necessary, take control of the machine and do it for you. Leave our call on speaker so that I can hear everything."
Aziraphale sighed with relief. "Crowley, I could kiss you."
"Yeah, well, I'll need to take a rain-check on that," Crowley said with a chuckle. "The important thing will be to act at all times like you are doing things, even if you're not. And Aziraphale?"
"Yes?"
"This weekend we're getting you a mobile phone. That way if something like this happens again you and I can do a video call."
The clock chimed the quarter hour.
"All right," Aziraphale said. "We can do this."
Fifteen minutes later, Aziraphale had the Zoom window open, and had joined the meeting.
"It's nice to see you in your own window, Aziraphale," Michael said. "Congratulations on your progress." A few of the other directors nodded in agreement.
Aziraphale thanked her. "I'm sure you're glad to have your office to yourself," he said.
Michael laughed. "Yes."
"I'm glad to have my office to myself, too," added Sandalphon. "But well done."
Gabriel was the last to log in. "All right, everyone, let's get started." He made some opening remarks about the expectations for the quarter's end, and then one by one he asked the different Directors to present a review of their department's quarterly data.
Aziraphale's computer chimed with emails from the other department heads, with their reports attached for later review.
It was finally his turn. He glanced at the chat window and smiled at the row of 'thumbs up' that Crowley had typed.
At Crowley's earlier suggestion, Aziraphale had prepared his email ahead of time, with his report already attached and all the recipients filled in. He clicked Send.
"All right, everyone, I've just emailed everyone my report. We've had a very good quarter, actually..." Aziraphale went over his department's numbers, referring to the presentation notes he had made earlier. He heard the multiple chimes of his colleagues receiving his email, and for the first time he thought, This could actually work.
Although he thought it was very sneaky how Gabriel made no mention of Crowley and the revoked access. His superior merely nodded at each presentation point, acknowledging the information.
When Aziraphale was done, Gabriel said, "Well done, Aziraphale, it's good to hear that your department actually sold some of those rare books this quarter—sometimes I think you view our inventory as your own personal library."
A few of the others tittered at the remark.
Gabriel leaned closer to his screen. "I wonder if you might share your spreadsheet screen with us? I'd like to see how you have it set up now that you're finally using Excel." He smiled, showing all his teeth.
Aziraphale felt a surge of panic—Crowley had only gone over screen sharing once, since no one had ever shared their screen in any of their previous meetings.
What do I do?
He reminded himself of Crowley's advice. 'Take your time, and don't let him fluster you.' Well, Aziraphale was certainly flustered right now. But he saw the chat window filling up with hastily typed instructions, and the sight made him feel a bit better.
"O-of course," Aziraphale said. "Just give me a moment to double-check my notes."
While he opened his spreadsheet, he heard a few of the other directors asking Gabriel why he was wanting to see it, and he took a grim satisfaction that the others had noticed their COO's churlish behaviour.
Despite numerous typos, Crowley's instructions seemed easy enough.
Do you want to do this or should I take over? Crowley typed.
I think I can, Aziraphale typed back. I've had a good teacher.
More 'thumbs up' marched across the chat window.
"Sorry for the delay, everyone," Aziraphale said, and he followed Crowley's instructions to share the screen, careful to not share the screen with their chat.
Gabriel seemed disappointed. "Everything seems in order, you can un-share it."
Aziraphale complied, with much relief.
While Gabriel made his closing remarks, Aziraphale typed THANK YOU SO MUCH in the chat window.
You're welcome. NO CAPS.
Aziraphale smiled and typed LOL.
* * *
Aziraphale pushed back his empty dessert plate. "That was absolutely scrumptious," he said.
"I would hope so, since you made a very determined effort to not leave a single crumb on that plate," Crowley said. It had been a very good dinner all around. He decided that the Ritz should be on their regular list. He hoped they would have a regular list, he'd thoroughly enjoyed the past two weeks.
Aziraphale peered over at Crowley's empty plate. "Looks like you made an effort too."
"At that price, I'm certainly going to eat all of it! Even if you're paying."
Aziraphale laid his napkin on the table and reached for his glass of wine. "Of course I'm paying. First off, it's my turn. Secondly, it's the least I could do, to thank you for getting me through all this nonsense."
"I heard that Herself got wind of Gabriel's little game," Crowley said, taking a sip from his own glass. "I also heard that She was not amused." Beelzebub had been extremely pleased to pass along that bit of gossip.
"Good," Aziraphale said. "It was cruel, what he did. I can understand the demand for me to use current equipment and programs—I can see now that I was selfish and caused my colleagues a lot of extra work. But it wasn't right for him to move the deadline, and then block you from helping me."
Crowley watched as the waiter refilled Aziraphale's glass. "At least I was able to help in spite of him."
"Yes, that was very clever of you." Aziraphale took a sip of wine. "You know, when Gabriel first talked to me about The Upgrade, part of his threat was about whether or not I 'was a good fit for the company.' This whole thing has made me wonder whether the company—and Gabriel—is a good fit for me. I think I will start looking around to see if there are opportunities elsewhere."
"I would, if I were you," Crowley said. "But you'll need to have an updated CV."
Aziraphale eyed him over the rim of his glass, his hazel eyes sparkling with merriment. "I will. I imagine you know someone who can assist?"
"Yeah. He works for the occasional dinner." Crowley grinned at him.
"Splendid. I was hoping our dinners could continue," Aziraphale said. "I've enjoyed them very much. For all the stress this upgrade has caused, I have to be grateful, because otherwise we'd probably never have met." He held out his glass.
Crowley clinked his glass against it. "Well, now that we have, you're stuck with me. Oh, and let's not forget, there's a certain rain-check that still has to be claimed."
-fin-
Recipient: HolyCatsAndRabbits
Rated: T
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary: AU: Aziraphale likes his vintage computer equipment, but it's causing problems with his colleagues. Gabriel mandates an upgrade, and Crowley from IT is assigned to make it all work.
"This isn't working any more, Aziraphale." Polished oak squeaked quietly as Gabriel shifted his position in the upholstered high-backed chair in Aziraphale's office.
"What isn't working?" Aziraphale asked, leaning back in his own chair. He reached out and adjusted the already-adjusted row of pens and pencils that lay on his blotter.
Gabriel waved a hand at Aziraphale's desk. "This. Your computer—if that can still be classified as a computer." He gestured at the antique phone that was nearby. "Your phone."
Aziraphale's gaze travelled to the offending items. "They're all in perfectly good working order," he said.
More squeaks as Gabriel leaned forward in the chair. "That's not what I mean and you know it. We've had this discussion before. You need to upgrade to the same computer everyone else uses, and the same telephone."
"But I'm used to these!"
Gabriel snorted. "You've probably had that computer since we got them in the eighties. It isn't capable of running an email program, much less Zoom. Your phone is lovely but it certainly can't handle voicemail or conference calls."
"But I—"
Gabriel held up his hand. "I don't care if this is what you're used to. I don't care if you don't want to change. This is—this has been causing problems for the past few years, but it's gotten worse and it needs to change. You need to change."
"Problems?" Aziraphale glanced nervously at the computer and telephone.
"Problems," Gabriel repeated. "Email is a huge problem. You think it's fine because you distribute your typed, three-part memos, but it's not fine. Your co-workers can't reply to them, and they need to be scanned to be digitised into the system. Your system can't run Zoom for meetings."
"But I've been going to Michael's office and getting on hers," Aziraphale said. "We're almost always in the same meetings. If I'm not I go to Sandalphon's office."
"Again, you're missing the point. You need your own. And your phone - you need to be able to be on a conference call without running to one of our offices to sit with us. And you need to be able to access voicemail in case someone wants to leave you a message." Gabriel jerked his thumb over at the dot-matrix printer on the carved oak side table. "That has to go, too—you need a proper laser printer with a scanner."
"All of it has to go?" Aziraphale's voice took on a tremble.
"All of it," Gabriel said. "I think I've been pretty lenient with your office in general, Aziraphale. As a Director, you certainly have more leeway with your office decor than lower management, but I don't think any of us expected you to turn your office into a country estate library. I must admit that it suits your Rare and Antiquarian department, though, and it looks very elegant."
He rose from the chair. "But the items you use to perform your duties must be the same as the other Directors. Your insistence on using extremely outdated equipment is interrupting our work flow and causing extra work for your fellow employees. I've asked IT to send someone up tomorrow with your new equipment, and they will also help you get up to speed with the software you need to use. Can I count on you to cooperate with the technician they send you?"
Aziraphale bit his lip. He hadn't realised that he had been causing so much extra work. "I will," he said.
"Excellent," Gabriel said, extending his hand. "For the most part, Aziraphale, I find you to be very dependable."
Aziraphale rose and shook it.
Gabriel walked to the door, then turned to face Aziraphale. "This isn't negotiable, Aziraphale. Now, I don't expect you to learn to use everything overnight. The tech will help you, and I'll give you til the end of the quarter—that's in a little over three weeks. I want you to understand that if you are unable to use the same equipment that I and the rest of the company use, I'm going to have to have a conversation with the CEO about whether you are still a good fit for this company. Don't make me have to fire you."
"Present for you." Beelzebub dropped a stapled packet of requisition forms onto the top of the paper blob that was Crowley's desk.
"Don't really care for your presents," Crowley replied, reaching for the packet. "They usually involve work."
"Well, since you work here—for me, I might add—that makes it appropriate, doesn't it?"
Crowley made a rude noise and glanced at the list of computer equipment. "What's this for? Setup for a new hire? I thought that was Hastur and Ligur's department, not your favourite Network Administrator." He grinned at Beelzebub. "Unless you fired them. Please tell me you fired them."
Beelzebub rolled her eyes. "No, I did not, and you are my only Network Administrator. This is a special situation, Crowley. The Luddite is being upgraded."
Crowley sat up straight in his chair. "Aziraphale, all the way Upstairs? The one who insists on using one of the company's original systems? No way!"
"The order came directly from Himself."
"Huh. Seem a bit strange that our Chief Operating Officer is doing the requisitioning," Crowley said. He took a closer look at the list. "Wow, whole kit and caboodle here. But why me?"
Beelzebub leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. "Because it's more than just new equipment. Gabriel wants him to be able to use email and Zoom, as well as phone conferencing and our productivity suite. He also wants this accomplished by the end of the quarter."
Crowley whistled. "That's a pretty tall order. Going to require some finesse."
"Hence my presence in your office." Beelzebub said. "You can work on his system build today, and then get started up in Aziraphale's office tomorrow afternoon. I'll cover any network issues that come up while you're working with him—this project is to be your priority."
After she left, Crowley cleared a space on his desk, grabbed his notepad, and started making some notes. It was going to be a challenge; even though he'd never met Aziraphale, the man was something of a legend in the IT Department. Somehow, over the years he'd managed to avoid every technology upgrade, and was still using the equipment purchased when the company was started in the early eighties.
Crowley was actually looking forward to getting his hands on the computer. An Amstrad CPC 464! From 1984! And still working!
Thinking about the old computer—and its equally old operating system—made him pause. The poor bloke was already going to be overwhelmed with new equipment and software; just trying to find everything was going to be stressful. Crowley tapped his mechanical pencil on the notepad. Maybe he could come up with some ways to make the upgrades a little less painful.
He reached for his phone and dialled an extension. "Dagon! You're just the person I need. Ah! You've heard? Good. I'll bring you the requisition forms shortly, I'll need the items as quickly as possible."
Crowley whistled an aimless tune while he watched the elevator's floor indicator go up, up, up. His cart was fully loaded with computer equipment—system, monitors, printer, accessories, cables, and a new phone. Dagon had pulled the items with admirable speed, leaving Crowley most of the previous afternoon to get everything ready, and do a little googling too.
The indicator passed the 30th floor. Years ago, someone in IT had divvied up the floors and assigned them names; floors 37 to 40 were the 'Levels of Heaven,' while the sub-floors that made up IT, Maintenance, and Storage were dubbed the 'Circles of Hell.' Everyone else were in the 'Realms of Earth.' It was much more fun to say you needed to go to 'the 22nd Realm of Earth' instead of the 22nd floor.
Crowley, of the 1st Circle of Hell, was currently on his way to the 1st Level of Heaven.
The elevator politely dinged to let him know he had reached the 37th floor.
"Hope I don't get altitude sickness," Crowley murmured to himself as he swiped his access card and rolled the cart down the carpeted hallway. He didn't think he'd ever been up this high; this floor was for all the Directors and their staff. One floor up housed all the Vice Presidents and Executive Officers, and, of course, the CEO had the 40th floor to Herself.
He double-checked his notepad for Aziraphale's office number, made the appropriate number of turns, waved at the secretaries, and then knocked on a panelled oak door.
"Come in."
Crowley had to stifle a gasp when he entered the office. He felt like he'd gone back at least a century in time. An oriental rug covered the beige carpeting, and brocade curtains trimmed the large bank of windows on the back wall. The other walls were lined with antique oak bookshelves that were packed to the brim with equally antique books, and everything was lit by an assortment of stained glass floor lamps.
In the centre of the room was an oak desk large enough to host a dance party, and at that desk sat a man whose cream-and-beige tartan attire suited the era that had been created. He rose and approached Crowley with an extended hand.
"Hello, I'm Aziraphale," he said. "You must be the chap from IT, from the look of your cart. You are—?"
Crowley blinked. "Crowley," he replied, and shook the offered hand. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected, but he had not expected someone near his own age. He had certainly not expected a pair of rather attractive hazel eyes, which were currently gazing at him with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"I was expecting one of the two fellows who are usually up here to fix things," Aziraphale said. "You look like management, although I must say I haven't seen many managers wearing all black, along with dark sunglasses."
"I'm the network administrator," Crowley said. "But it was decided that you were a special case."
"Ah, I guess I am," Aziraphale gave him a tight, nervous smile.
"Fluorescent light bothers my eyes," Crowley added.
"Pardon?"
Crowley tapped his wire-rimmed sunglasses. "Although I don't think I'll have a problem in your office."
Aziraphale laughed, and it transformed him. "No, you won't have a problem here—I can't stand fluorescent light, it's so harsh." He waved a hand at his desk. "Well, I guess I should let you get on with it. Would you prefer that I leave?"
"No need," Crowley said, and he walked around to where Aziraphale normally sat and pulled out his phone to take a few pictures of the desktop setup, as well as the computer screen. "In fact, it will help if you stay, because I want to make this process easy for you."
Aziraphale's smile faded. "I don't think that will be possible," he said, as he sank into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Nonsense," Crowley said, and he began shutting the old system down.
Aziraphale gave him a sceptical look. "I'm well aware that I have a reputation, and a nickname." He scowled. "The 'Luddite.'"
"Yes, well, you're not a real Luddite," Crowley said from under the desk, while he disconnected wires and cables. "Real ones don't like any technology at all. You just like... older technology."
"Exactly!" Aziraphale said. "All this works perfectly, there's really no need to replace it."
Crowley popped his head up from beneath the desk. "There is, though, which is why I'm here." He saw a notepad on the desk and tossed it to Aziraphale. "Here. While I'm getting the new machine hooked up you can make a couple of lists for me. I want to know who you call regularly, and who you send those ancient three-part memos to."
Aziraphale took the notepad. "How do you know about the memos?"
Crowley wiggled his fingers. "We're IT, we know everything."
The next half hour passed in a somewhat companionable silence. Crowley listened to the scritch of Aziraphale's fountain pen (of course he wrote with a fountain pen) while he hooked up all the new equipment. When he finished all the connections, Crowley got up and waved at the empty chair. "All done! Come on over and we'll get started."
"Two monitors?" Aziraphale asked, wide eyed. He handed Crowley the notepad.
"Aw yeah," Crowley replied. "That's a bare minimum. I have four."
Aziraphale gaped at him, and then sat in his chair.
Crowley pulled one of the extra chairs over and sat next to him. "Okay, let's turn this baby on." He pointed to the tower, which he'd situated on a far corner of the desk. "The blue button."
Aziraphale pressed the button and watched as the screens displayed the company logo and other startup information.
So far, it hadn't been nearly as horrible as he'd anticipated. Crowley seemed very knowledgeable, and personality-wise he was a vast improvement over the two men who normally took care of things.
He glanced over at the new phone and sighed. So much plastic! He reached over and brushed a fingertip over the old one which now sat off to the side.
"That's a nice piece of kit," Crowley said. "1950s?"
"1958," Aziraphale replied. "Bakelite GPO No. 26." He peered at the main computer screen, which was now displaying a set of spinning dots. "What's it doing?"
"Ugh, updating," Crowley said. "Even though I just set this up yesterday."
The updates finally finished, and Aziraphale was shocked to see the same screen as he had on the old machine. "This looks like my old computer! Are you sure you disconnected it?"
Crowley grinned at him and pointed at the old machine, which was now on the cart. "Did a bit of googling yesterday, and I decided to have a little fun with the desktop."
"This is wonderful! You even have the old icons! How very clever of you."
Crowley rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well, I thought it might help to have things look familiar. You used Word Perfect, but Word is really very similar so I don't think you'll have too much trouble. And a spreadsheet's a spreadsheet, but I think you'll like Excel much better than Lotus 1-2-3 once you get used to it."
They spent the next few hours exploring the new system. Crowley was right—the newer programs had a few more bells and whistles, but the mechanics were mostly the same, and under his guidance Aziraphale was able to create a dummy letter, as well as a dummy report, and print both out on the new laser printer.
"That was so quick!" Aziraphale said as he took the sheets of paper from the top of the printer. "But what do I do about extra copies?"
"Easy-peasy," Crowley said. "You can print as many copies as you want—although you won't need a 'file' copy, since this document is stored on our network. Also, with some of these you won't even need to print them out, you'll just email them."
"Hmm," Aziraphale said, "perhaps I won't need as many of those filing cabinets any more." He waved a hand at a small bank of cabinets next to one of the bookshelves.
"Probably not," Crowley said. "Everything gets backed up, so you never have to worry about losing anything."
"Excellent," Aziraphale said. "Room for more books!"
Crowley laughed. "All right, let's introduce you to email."
Email wasn't that horrible, either—Aziraphale was surprised to see that it was mostly set up the same way as a memo form. He watched as Crowley created a contact list from the names he'd put on the memo pad, along with his own name. "I'll be emailing you?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Crowley said. "We're going to email each other a lot for the next week or so, until you get comfortable with things. I've also put my extension on your new phone, so you can call me when you need help." He glanced at his watch. "Let's call today done, it's after four. I need to get your old stuff downstairs, and tomorrow morning I'll work on getting your old files off there and into a network folder." He rose from his chair and moved it back in front of the desk.
Aziraphale rose as well. "Let me treat you to dinner when you're done downstairs," he said. "You helped me so much today."
Crowley's grin returned. "Sounds good to me. I'll ring you on the new phone when I'm done—call it a pop quiz." He loaded the rest of Aziraphale's old equipment onto the cart. "See you soon," he said, and then he rolled the cart out the door and into the hallway.
"See you soon," Aziraphale repeated. Perhaps this upgrade wouldn't be so bad after all.
While he waited for Crowley's phone call, Aziraphale puttered around his office and rearranged some things on his desk. A little over an hour later, the two men were finishing up an excellent sushi dinner and enjoying a second bottle of wine.
"I can't believe he said he's going to fire you," Crowley said as he refilled their glasses.
"Only if I can't 'upgrade' myself in time," Aziraphale said. "I must admit, I was very worried this morning, before you came up. But you're a good teacher, and after today I'm starting to think it might be possible."
"Of course it's possible," Crowley said.
"You're very kind," Aziraphale said.
"Pish," Crowley retorted. "Your boss clearly thinks you're an idiot, which you're not. I'll tell you something, it took a considerable amount of savvy to keep that old clunker going, AND fend us off from upgrading you for all these years. I still don't know how you did it for so long."
"I must admit I'm not looking forward to the Zoom thingy," Aziraphale said, as he slowly rotated his wineglass. "Everyone looks so strange on screen, in all the little boxes."
Crowley snorted. "Everyone does look strange, so don't worry about it. You've got this. Once you've got a couple under your belt you'll be a pro."
"You really think so?" Aziraphale asked wistfully. "You think I can meet Gabriel's deadline?"
Crowley leaned forward in his chair. "Yes. And I'm going to help you not only meet his deadline, but beat it by at least a week. Because he's an ass." He held out his wineglass. "Are you in?"
Aziraphale grinned at him. "He is rather unpleasant," he said, and he clinked his glass against Crowley's. "I'm in."
"Excellent," Crowley said. "Let the battle begin."
So far, Aziraphale was surviving his first morning alone with the new equipment. His 'lessons' with Crowley were to be in the afternoons, so in between his morning meetings Aziraphale continued to explore the new programs, with the help of some books that Crowley had sent up.
A soft chime told Aziraphale that he had a new email. He checked his notes, and opened it.
From: Crowley
Subject: Test
This is a test of the Emergency Email System. This is only a Test.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
(Reply so I know you got this, yeah?)
-C
Aziraphale chuckled at the cheeky message. He pulled the keyboard closer and typed a reply.
From: Aziraphale
Subject: RE: Test
HA... THAT WAS VERY AMUSING, CROWLEY.
I DID RECEIVE YOUR EMAIL AND AM REPLYING.
-A
He clicked on the Send button. Email wasn't so bad after all! It could be fun!
The phone rang, and Aziraphale's nose wrinkled in distaste as he picked up the new handset. "Good morn—"
"No-no-no-no-no," Crowley's voice crackled on the line. "Absolutely do NOT compose an email in all caps."
Aziraphale blinked. "But it's easier and quicker to type that way," he said.
"Absolutely not. Only assholes type in all caps, it's considered 'yelling.'" There was a pause. "Although, people with vision issues get a pass. Did you type that way because you thought I had a vision issue?"
"Erm, no," Aziraphale said.
"Then NO. Also, don't use ellipses like that, it makes you sound like an old man. Use 'L-O-L' or one of its variants."
Oh, dear. "Lawl?"
Crowley sighed. "Laughing Out Loud."
"Oh! Ha!"
"I'm hanging up now. See you later—and no more caps!"
The rest of the work week flew by in a mostly pleasant blur. Crowley came up every after lunch every day, and they would spend each afternoon either going over a new program or revisiting previous lessons. After four days, Aziraphale had a good grasp of both Word and Excel, and was slowly getting more comfortable with Outlook.
They'd quickly fallen into the habit of having dinner after work, taking turns picking up the bill. Crowley was an entertaining dinner companion, and so far had proven to have good taste in restaurants.
Aziraphale found himself curiously adrift over the weekend. While he liked his job—ultimatums from Gabriel aside—Aziraphale was not a workaholic, and he enjoyed his weekends. But this time he found himself looking forward to Monday, and when he took his usual Sunday walk to feed the ducks at St James' Park, he wondered if Crowley would enjoy the walk too.
Monday came along, as Mondays do, and Aziraphale took a small measure of comfort in the fact that everything he'd learnt the week before had not leaked out of his brain over the weekend. He'd been able to check his emails and have a report ready to hand out during his usual morning meeting with his staff, who were very supportive and complimentary of his progress.
At lunchtime he'd poked at his salad and kept checking the clock, waiting for 1 pm.
1 pm sharp had Crowley knocking on his door, laptop in hand. "It's time to work on Zoom," he said.
Over the next few hours, Crowley helped him adjust the camera and microphone that sat atop his main monitor, went over the program's settings, and then sat across from him as they went through a series of dummy meetings.
It was very strange to see Crowley on the monitor and in the chair opposite him.
"I think we can try having someone else with us," Crowley said. "My boss agreed to have a quick session, let me see if she's ready and I'll send out the invite."
Minutes later, Aziraphale was in a Zoom meeting with Crowley and Beelzebub.
"Thank you for loaning me Crowley for this endeavour," Aziraphale said. "He has been wonderful."
"Don't say that, he'll think he can ask me for a rise," Beelzebub said. "But I'm glad to hear that you're progressing so well. I'm looking forward to seeing Gabriel's face when you beat his stupid deadline. Crowley!"
Crowley waved. "Hi boss! Since I'm wonderful, can I have a rise?"
"No. I imagine you're going to wrangle me in for practising conference calls?"
"If you don't mind."
Beelzebub shrugged. "At least they'll be quick. Oh, and Aziraphale—Dagon, our Systems Administrator, has asked if you could come visit him at some point after this is all done; he'd like to go over your old computer with you. He's very excited about it, said he's never seen one of those models in such good working order."
Aziraphale beamed with pride. "I would be happy to."
"All right, I have to get some actual work done before the afternoon runs away from me. Keep up the good work, both of you." Her box on the screen blinked out, leaving just him and Crowley.
"Okay, I think that's enough Zooming for today." Crowley logged out of the meeting and closed his laptop. "Tomorrow we'll work with the phone—we'll start with holding and transferring, and then we'll do some basic conferencing." He handed Aziraphale a laminated card. "Here's your homework. This has the different key combinations for the phone. I think it will go easier tomorrow if you read this through a few times, so that you're at least a little familiar with it when we get started."
"Oh! That's a good idea," Aziraphale said. "I've also been re-writing my notes each day, it's been helping me remember everything.
"Good idea. It's my turn tonight, right? There's a nice Indian place nearby that I think you'd like. They make a fabulous vindaloo."
"Oooh, that sounds lovely," Aziraphale said.
"See you soon," Crowley waved and left.
"See you soon."
From: Gabriel
To: All Directors
CC: Sandalphon
Subject: THIS FRIDAY
HELLO EVERYONE... SINCE NEXT WEEK IS THE END OF THE QUARTER I WANT TO HAVE A ZOOM MEETING THIS FRIDAY AFTERNOON TO DISCUSS WHAT WE NEED TO DO TO SUCCESSFULLY CLOSE THE QUARTER AND ALSO TALK ABOUT NEXT QUARTER'S GOALS.
I WOULD LIKE US TO MEET AT 2 PM. SANDALPHON WILL EMAIL EVERYONE THE ZOOM INVITE.
I EXPECT EVERYONE TO ATTEND. I ALSO EXPECT AZIRAPHALE TO ATTEND ON HIS OWN MACHINE. I'VE BEEN HEARING GOOD THINGS ABOUT HIS ENTRY INTO THE 21ST CENTURY. HA...
GABRIEL
"What am I going to do?" Aziraphale poured some more wine into his glass. "It's a week early!"
They'd managed to get a relatively quiet nook in a nearby pub that made excellent haddock & chips. Quiet enough to discuss the drama of the day, anyway.
"You'll be fine," Crowley told him for what had to be at least the twentieth time. Gabriel's email had sent his new friend into a fine tizzy. "But I'll say it again, your boss is an ass."
"He does type in all caps," Aziraphale said. "And he uses ellipses badly." He drank some of his wine.
Crowley noticed the slight tremble in Aziraphale's hand, and cursed inwardly. One stupid email and all the confidence that Aziraphale had gained in the past week and a half was wiped out. "I'm telling you, you'll be fine. I will help you be fine." He pushed the basket of chips toward Aziraphale. "Have some more chips, you need to soak up the wine."
Aziraphale snorted, but he helped himself to more. "I should have suspected he'd do something like this."
"Well, then, it's a good thing that we were already working towards having you ready by Friday." Crowley snagged a chip. "You really are mostly there, Aziraphale. I think the biggest thing will be to not let him fluster you. Take your time, and use your notes—I looked them over this afternoon, and they're fine."
"If we get through this," Aziraphale waved a chip at him, "we're having dinner at the Ritz."
Crowley whistled. "The Ritz! Ooh la la! That's a nice bit of incentive."
Aziraphale beamed at him. "It is, isn't it? Shall we get another bottle?"
Crowley waved at the waiter. "Sure, why not? But no wine tomorrow night, we'll need to be at the top of our game on Friday."
The antique wall clock chimed the half hour.
Thirty minutes left, Aziraphale thought. Crowley should be arriving at any moment.
His phone rang.
"Aziraphale," Crowley said, "Beelzebub just told me that Gabriel asked her to revoke my badge's access to your floor."
Aziraphale sat up ramrod straight. "He what? This is ridiculous." He pressed his fingers against his throbbing temple.
"I agree, and so does Beelzebub—but she said that she has to do it because it was a direct request. Gabriel really wants to hang you out to dry."
"I don't understand," Aziraphale said. "Why issue the challenge in the first place if he clearly wants me to fail?"
"You're not going to fail."
"I was really counting on having you here," Aziraphale said.
"I'll be there, just not physically."
"How so? More 'IT' magic?"
"Sort of," Crowley said. "Now that you have a newer machine, I was able to install our remote assistance software on it. I can log into your machine from my desk and either completely control it, or share control. Look at your screen."
Aziraphale complied, and saw a pop-up window in the middle of the screen. Grant the Technician access? He clicked on the 'Accept' button.
His pointer suddenly started moving on its own.
"Crowley, is that you?"
The pointer moved in a couple of circles. "Yeah, it's me. Now if you move the mouse you'll get control back." Aziraphale watched as a messaging program was installed, and a minute later a chat window popped open on the second monitor. "This is what we'll do; if you get stuck and need to ask me a question, type it in this chat window. I can answer your question, and if necessary, take control of the machine and do it for you. Leave our call on speaker so that I can hear everything."
Aziraphale sighed with relief. "Crowley, I could kiss you."
"Yeah, well, I'll need to take a rain-check on that," Crowley said with a chuckle. "The important thing will be to act at all times like you are doing things, even if you're not. And Aziraphale?"
"Yes?"
"This weekend we're getting you a mobile phone. That way if something like this happens again you and I can do a video call."
The clock chimed the quarter hour.
"All right," Aziraphale said. "We can do this."
Fifteen minutes later, Aziraphale had the Zoom window open, and had joined the meeting.
"It's nice to see you in your own window, Aziraphale," Michael said. "Congratulations on your progress." A few of the other directors nodded in agreement.
Aziraphale thanked her. "I'm sure you're glad to have your office to yourself," he said.
Michael laughed. "Yes."
"I'm glad to have my office to myself, too," added Sandalphon. "But well done."
Gabriel was the last to log in. "All right, everyone, let's get started." He made some opening remarks about the expectations for the quarter's end, and then one by one he asked the different Directors to present a review of their department's quarterly data.
Aziraphale's computer chimed with emails from the other department heads, with their reports attached for later review.
It was finally his turn. He glanced at the chat window and smiled at the row of 'thumbs up' that Crowley had typed.
At Crowley's earlier suggestion, Aziraphale had prepared his email ahead of time, with his report already attached and all the recipients filled in. He clicked Send.
"All right, everyone, I've just emailed everyone my report. We've had a very good quarter, actually..." Aziraphale went over his department's numbers, referring to the presentation notes he had made earlier. He heard the multiple chimes of his colleagues receiving his email, and for the first time he thought, This could actually work.
Although he thought it was very sneaky how Gabriel made no mention of Crowley and the revoked access. His superior merely nodded at each presentation point, acknowledging the information.
When Aziraphale was done, Gabriel said, "Well done, Aziraphale, it's good to hear that your department actually sold some of those rare books this quarter—sometimes I think you view our inventory as your own personal library."
A few of the others tittered at the remark.
Gabriel leaned closer to his screen. "I wonder if you might share your spreadsheet screen with us? I'd like to see how you have it set up now that you're finally using Excel." He smiled, showing all his teeth.
Aziraphale felt a surge of panic—Crowley had only gone over screen sharing once, since no one had ever shared their screen in any of their previous meetings.
What do I do?
He reminded himself of Crowley's advice. 'Take your time, and don't let him fluster you.' Well, Aziraphale was certainly flustered right now. But he saw the chat window filling up with hastily typed instructions, and the sight made him feel a bit better.
"O-of course," Aziraphale said. "Just give me a moment to double-check my notes."
While he opened his spreadsheet, he heard a few of the other directors asking Gabriel why he was wanting to see it, and he took a grim satisfaction that the others had noticed their COO's churlish behaviour.
Despite numerous typos, Crowley's instructions seemed easy enough.
Do you want to do this or should I take over? Crowley typed.
I think I can, Aziraphale typed back. I've had a good teacher.
More 'thumbs up' marched across the chat window.
"Sorry for the delay, everyone," Aziraphale said, and he followed Crowley's instructions to share the screen, careful to not share the screen with their chat.
Gabriel seemed disappointed. "Everything seems in order, you can un-share it."
Aziraphale complied, with much relief.
While Gabriel made his closing remarks, Aziraphale typed THANK YOU SO MUCH in the chat window.
You're welcome. NO CAPS.
Aziraphale smiled and typed LOL.
Aziraphale pushed back his empty dessert plate. "That was absolutely scrumptious," he said.
"I would hope so, since you made a very determined effort to not leave a single crumb on that plate," Crowley said. It had been a very good dinner all around. He decided that the Ritz should be on their regular list. He hoped they would have a regular list, he'd thoroughly enjoyed the past two weeks.
Aziraphale peered over at Crowley's empty plate. "Looks like you made an effort too."
"At that price, I'm certainly going to eat all of it! Even if you're paying."
Aziraphale laid his napkin on the table and reached for his glass of wine. "Of course I'm paying. First off, it's my turn. Secondly, it's the least I could do, to thank you for getting me through all this nonsense."
"I heard that Herself got wind of Gabriel's little game," Crowley said, taking a sip from his own glass. "I also heard that She was not amused." Beelzebub had been extremely pleased to pass along that bit of gossip.
"Good," Aziraphale said. "It was cruel, what he did. I can understand the demand for me to use current equipment and programs—I can see now that I was selfish and caused my colleagues a lot of extra work. But it wasn't right for him to move the deadline, and then block you from helping me."
Crowley watched as the waiter refilled Aziraphale's glass. "At least I was able to help in spite of him."
"Yes, that was very clever of you." Aziraphale took a sip of wine. "You know, when Gabriel first talked to me about The Upgrade, part of his threat was about whether or not I 'was a good fit for the company.' This whole thing has made me wonder whether the company—and Gabriel—is a good fit for me. I think I will start looking around to see if there are opportunities elsewhere."
"I would, if I were you," Crowley said. "But you'll need to have an updated CV."
Aziraphale eyed him over the rim of his glass, his hazel eyes sparkling with merriment. "I will. I imagine you know someone who can assist?"
"Yeah. He works for the occasional dinner." Crowley grinned at him.
"Splendid. I was hoping our dinners could continue," Aziraphale said. "I've enjoyed them very much. For all the stress this upgrade has caused, I have to be grateful, because otherwise we'd probably never have met." He held out his glass.
Crowley clinked his glass against it. "Well, now that we have, you're stuck with me. Oh, and let's not forget, there's a certain rain-check that still has to be claimed."
-fin-
Wonderful
Date: 2022-12-15 01:34 pm (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2022-12-15 04:58 pm (UTC)"Because he's an ass" I laughed so hard at that!
This was just the sweetest, fluffiest fic. I love how intelligent Aziraphale is and how caring Crowley is. They are so well suited. And they are able to fall into a relationship so easily because they came into it feeling so much respect for each other. It was such a stressful situation that either one of them could have been resentful before they even met, but instead they gave it a chance and fell into something so lovely together. And they were able to THWART GABRIEL (I'm using all caps haha). This is just exactly what I wanted, thank you so much!! <3 <3
--Dannye (HolyCatsAndRabbits)
(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-15 11:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-16 03:31 am (UTC)He made his new system look like the old system he was used to <3 This is so romantic
ALL CAPS. And then, a few scenes later, Gabriel types exactly the same way XD Excellent comedic timing.
This is so cuuuute, and relatable, except for the part where he’s SAVED from forced updates, now I’m wishing for that, too! Thanks :)
(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-16 09:37 pm (UTC)rain check!!!
who always has an umbrella, just in case?