An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
So, Season 2 messed me up for a while, as I think is true of a lot of us. But my own particular flavor of freakout had to do with investment in a read on Aziraphale and Crowley and their relationship which I felt in my bones that I understood -- and I had written hundreds of thousands of words about it. About a Crowley who fell in love at first sight, about an Aziraphale with scads of sexual experience, above all about the both of them -- by the time that tartan thermos was exchanged, certainly, if not well before -- knowing they were in love. Only waiting, maybe without much hope, for the moment when it would finally be safe. In my head, they knew. They both knew. And I wrote about that moment, and what came after.
Season 2 changed everything and for a long time I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go on purveying erotic romances as though nothing had happened. The thing I most desperately needed to work out, was, how did we get here? If, after the Ritz, things didn't go as I'd always imagined -- what did happen?
Thank goodness for @julietk, who allowed me to throw myself on their tender mercies and served up their flawless, flawed Crowley as brilliantly as ever, to support my occasional rep as Aziraphale-whisperer.
If you're still in a lather about S2, I hope this story brings you the comfort it has for me.
