7) Crowley reacting to humans finally reaching the stars, which means it may eventually be possible for him to be among his creations once again
“They did it!” shouted a tinny voice on the other end of the telephone as soon as Aziraphale had gotten it off the cradle.
“Who did it?” Aziraphale said, confused. Crowley sounded happy but he was shouting awfully loudly even though Aziraphale knew he was well-aware that telephones could carry even small sounds great distances. “And what did they-”
“They made it to the moon!” Crowley crowed over the top of him. “They actually did it- I had my doubts, when they were making a fuss about going, I’d never heard of any plans up top that involved them getting off the planet, but they did it, Aziraphale.”
“Yes, quite- quite right,” he agreed, not terribly less confused. “I’m sorry, who made it to the moon, now?” He really hoped it was not Hell, as demons really were supposed to be barred from going out among the stars again. They’d been cast down.
“The humans! The humans- Angel, don’t you ever- nevermind,” Crowley said, talking himself in a quick, tight circle so fast it was astounding he didn’t get dizzy. “The humans took a rocket and blasted it up to the moon.”
“When?” Aziraphale asked, casting a glance around for the radio he was sure he’d had just the other day. He really couldn’t be expected to listen to it all the time, the humans were constantly getting up to things, but perhaps if they’d escaped the terrarium, it was time to pay attention. “Where are they headed next?”
“What?” Crowley asked, overly loud. “Next? Nowhere, they’re just- they went up, and then they’ll come back down again.”
Aziraphale stopped rummaging through a pile of books and looked at the receiver he’d been holding at the end of its wire. “You mean they went to all the trouble to get off the planet, and now they’re just going to turn around and come back?”
There was a long silence on the other hand, and Aziraphale thought maybe Crowley had hung up, except that there was no tone to suggest it. “W-they… they can’t breathe up there,” Crowley said, sounding as confused as Aziraphale now. “They had to come back.”
“Didn’t they take any air up with them?” Aziraphale asked.
“Angel!” Crowley said, exasperated. “The humans have gotten up in to space for the first time.” He stressed the words in a way that Aziraphale gathered should be significant, but Crowley couldn’t possibly be worried about them escaping Earth; he was, after all, the reason they had escaped anywhere in the first place. “Space.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand the excitement,” Aziraphale admitted. “If they’ve come right back down again-”
“They’ll go back,” Crowley said quickly. “I’m certain of it. And someday, when they’ve gotten very good at it, there’s a chance I might be able to get back up there and see… you know. Stuff.”
Oh, Aziraphale thought. “Your stars,” he said aloud. He’d nearly forgotten Crowley was a starmaker. He’d confided it so long ago, on a grassy knoll, back before humans had put so much light into the sky that the stars lost their shine. “You could go back to them.”
“I could go back to them,” Crowley agreed softly.
Aziraphale’s mind tripped around over the implications for a moment before he managed to string together one coherent thought. “Should we celebrate?” he asked tentatively. “Maybe a nice bottle of Cheval Blanc?”
Crowley’s voice warmed. “Be there in two shakes,” he said, and the line went dead.
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