Note: This story is a challenge that a friend and I came up with to write a time loop story in honor of upcoming Groundhog Day and the film of the same name. We are both trying to finish a loop story by February 2nd! Join us and write your own!
Summary: A month after the apocalyse-that-wasn't, both Crowley and Aziraphale are beyond frustrated that they still haven't moved beyond their impasse of neither of them wanting to make the first move and declare their feelings. Fortunately, Crowley has decided to do something about it.
Go read the full story on AO3!
Chapter 1
It was three weeks after the Apocalypse-that-wasn’t, and Crowley woke up aware of two very important things: one, the sun was shining directly in his face, which wasn’t supposed to happen in his dark and gloomy bedroom, and two, he was intensely frustrated with the situation between him and his angel.
He cracked an eye open and took a look around to see what had caused the sunlight problem, and noted that one of his curtain rods has somehow fallen in the night, bringing one side of the dark gray velvet curtains down and allowing the atrocity of morning sunlight to shine in on him at seven thirty in the bloody morning. This was wrong. Crowley preferred to sleep in complete darkness until at least noon. He threw back the black comforter and stomped over to peer at the empty screw holes in the wall, and then snapped it all back in place with a quick round of hellish power. Then, just for effect, he threatened the offending curtain rod with all the curses he could think of if it ever had the temerity to do so again.
That settled, he stalked out to the kitchen to magic himself up a cappuccino and think about his second problem. Namely, Aziraphale.
It had been nearly a month since the events at Tadfield Air Base, since their kidnappings and narrow escape from the respective forces of Above and Below. They were free, independent, on their own side for the first time in millennia. Problem was, Crowley had thought that On Their Own Side would mean an end to six millennia of dithering about whether they did or didn’t have feelings for each other. Because he absolutely did. And he was nearly sure the angel harbored feelings at well. But the angel – despite no longer needing to be afraid – continued to equivocate. He was absolutely, positively, dithering full speed ahead.
Nothing, essentially, had changed.
Sure, they saw each other much more, and they didn’t have to skulk around using their various hidden meeting points around town anymore. They had lunches that turned into dinners and met for breakfast and took walks and managed to spend as much time together as they could – but still, Aziraphale was keeping his distance, emotionally. He kept his hands primly folded and his gazes lowered and his feelings to himself.
It was driving Crowley stark, raving mad. And today, he’d decided, was the day it was going to change, no matter what it took. He’d been researching, watching lots and lots of romantic movies and noting what always brought the leads together in the end. He’d been collating and cross referencing and considering what he’d learned and what he knew about his angel. In the end, he decided, it all came down to one thing: a rival.
With a grim smile, the demon pulled out his phone and began to finalize his plans.
--
Aziraphale finished his entries in the ledger for the month and put down his fountain pen with a contented sigh. There was nothing quite as satisfying as finishing a ledger and seeing all the neat numbers, handwritten in crisp black ink, marching neatly down the page in their tidy columns. He blew on the ink to ensure it was dry, and then eased the book closed and back onto the top shelf of the desk. Then he sat back and let his mind drift for a moment, and of course, it drifted to the Crowley problem.
Aziraphale was frustrated. It had been nearly a month and the demon seemed no closer than ever to indicating if he had any romantic interest in him or not. Sure they were spending more time together, and they were much less paranoid about being seen together, but so far all of his attempts to signal interest – by feathering his nest, so to speak, making things as comfortable as he could for Crowley, lingering near and batting his eyelashes, leaning in and giving him what he thought of as his special Crowley smile – had fallen short.
He wondered, perhaps, if he had misjudged Crowley’s interest all along. The thought petrified him. The last thing he wanted to do, now that they finally had peace, was to push the demon away by nudging him for a romantic commitment that he had no real interest in. And so he held himself back, watching and waiting, hoping that things might become clear with time.
The bell over the bookshop door jingled and he knew without looking that it was the demon in question.
“Aziraphale?” Crowley called out as he came strolling into the office. “You back here?”
Aziraphale smiled as Crowley flopped down onto the couch. “You look nice today – is that a new shirt?” the angel asked, eyeing the demon closely.
“I do that from time to time,” Crowley said as he settled even further into a sprawl. “Got anything to drink around here?”
Aziraphale gave him one last perusal and headed off to the kitchen to make some tea, adding a good dollop of whiskey to Crowley’s, before heading back and settling down on the other end of the couch.
Crowley took an exploratory sip, grunted appreciatively and then downed half of the cup in a single swallow. “So angel, did you hear that the pub down the street is changing owners again?”
“The good pub or the bad pub?”
“The bad one. Switching hands.”
“Oh really?” Aziraphale said with interest. “Well one can only hope that perhaps there will be a resulting increase in the quality of their –"
He was cut off by the tinkle of the front door yet again. Aziraphale looked up in annoyance.
“Oh good lord,” he said bitterly. “Customers. Did I forget to turn the sign to closed?”
Crowley sat suddenly upright, catching a glimpse of someone through the stacks behind them. “Oh no, angel, that’s not really a customer – this one’s mine. New friend – I invited him to come see the shop.”
As Crowley got up to go greet the newcomer, Aziraphale took a moment to examine the man. Their visitor was younger than them, in his late 20s perhaps, with the moderate, wiry build of someone who worked out regularly. He wore sharply creased, high-end jeans with a button down shirt and a slim cut black blazer. His dark hair was cut short and swept back away from his chiseled face where dark brown eyes looked around, taking the shop in. He was, in a word, quite handsome.
“Aziraphale,” Crowley called as he turned back towards the office, “come meet Kevin.”
Aziraphale plastered on a smile and went over to shake hands with Crowley’s new friend. “Welcome, Kevin,” he said with warmth but a slight tinge of reserve to his voice. “How do you two know each other?”
“Oh, we met at the pub the other night,” Crowley said. “Night you were busy with the taxes, I think. Ended up having a few drinks and it turns out Kevin here has quite a love of books. I told him to drop by and have a look next time he was in Soho.”
Aziraphale made as a good host should and offered his new acquaintance a tour, showing him the highlights of his collection. To his credit, Kevin made intelligent comments and seemed to know his first editions. The angel had to admit he was quite personable.
“Have a seat, I’ll go get some tea,” Aziraphale said, heading off to the back room. He spent a few minutes thinking while he put a tea tray together. It wasn’t like Crowley to invite people around to his shop – he couldn’t think of it happening more than once or twice in the last two hundred years, and when it had, it was usually someone he thought Aziraphale needed to know, not someone he’d been off drinking with. Nonetheless, he told himself, no point in being a ninny about these things; there was no reason Crowley couldn’t make a new friend, and perhaps he was introducing him to Aziraphale so that he’d realize there was nothing to worry about.
When he came back out with the tea, however, he found Crowley and Kevin sitting just a little too close together on the sofa, with Crowley leaning in towards the young man to mumble something in a low voice that made him laugh.
He had, Aziraphale noted, a lovely laugh.
If he put down the tea tray a little too firmly, he was able to play it off as a bit of momentary clumsiness, nothing more.
Aziraphale tried to join in the general conversation and Kevin did make a point of nicely attempting to include him, but he couldn’t help but notice that, mostly, Kevin and Crowley wanted to talk to each other. They were laughing and chatting about various people at the pub and some kind of hilarious hijinks that took place there. They gamely tried to explain it to Aziraphale, but it really turned out to be one of those ‘you-had-to-be-there’ moments.
The angel tuned out a bit and instead sat back and examined them both a little more closely. Was there a bit more of a sparkle in Crowley’s eye than usual? He seemed … almost flushed. Unusually attentive to what the human was saying. From his perch across the room, Aziraphale didn’t see what was so fascinating about Kevin’s conversation. He was funny but not exactly witty. He was attractive, but in an obvious sort of way. He was smart, but not brilliant. Aziraphale sniffed a little in disdain.
And as for Kevin – it was obvious to see that he was quite smitten with the demon next to him. Everything about his body language shouted it – the slight lean, the hand that hovered near his shoulder on the back of the couch, the ready and eager way he laughed at everything Crowley said. The slightly too-long eye contact whenever possible. It was obvious and overblown and he couldn’t believe Crowley was falling for it.
What on earth was going on? Aziraphale eventually excused himself and went to his desk to shuffle papers. Neither of his companions appeared to notice.
After another twenty minutes of conversation, Kevin finally got up to excuse himself.
“I’m co-hosting a party tonight at a flat in Chelsea,” Kevin said. “The owner is an old friend of mine and he’s recently sold the place, so we’re having a farewell bash before he hands it over. You should both come! Be my guests.”
Aziraphale knew Crowley hated parties, so he immediately started formulating a polite refusal for both of them.
“Thank you but I’m not sure if we will be able to –"
“We’d love to,” Crowley said, not even seeming to hear the angel. “See you there.”
He didn’t seem to notice Aziraphale staring at him in surprise.
--
“Well he seems lovely,” Aziraphale said after the door had shut behind him. “New friend, then?”
“Something like that, yeah,” Crowley said as he walked around restlessly, touching various knick-knacks and removing and replacing various volumes. “He seemed nice. Thought maybe it would be a good time to broaden our circle a little bit. Try out something new.”
Since when do you like nice? Aziraphale thought. Since when do we have a circle?
He couldn’t decide if Crowley was interested in the newcomer himself or if he was trying to set Aziraphale up with him, but either way it appeared to be bad news.
--
Crowley headed home and pulled out his phone to text Kevin.
Good work, he wrote. I think he’s getting a little jealous. We will up the ante tonight as discussed.
A second later, there was a ding for an incoming message.
You bet boss. What do you want me to do, exactly?
Crowley thought for a moment and then wrote back.
Let’s play it by ear, but definitely include some dancing and maybe a snog or two if the moment seems right.
You got it.
Crowley sprawled down on the couch and snapped his fingers to turn on the television and tried to find a nice sitcom to relax with. A moment later his phone buzzed again.
At first nothing seemed to happen, then slowly I could see the world around us start to reverse itself. Everything started moving backwards. Little animals, bigger animals. Clouds in the sky, giant bubbles, leaves in the breeze. Time was being reversed. Akaal was doing it. She was rewinding time! I could see the reversal speeding up. Soon enough, we would be back to our own time!
Or at least I would be back at my own time. I didn't know when Kink and G'fon had come from. Neither were willing to tell me. Kink was from my future, I knew that, but the future we'd seen was not where she belonged.
"We're going back to my time," I said. "Is that ok with you?"
"If it wasn't ok," she replied, "I wouldn't have agreed to it. But thank you, Franky, I always knew you cared."
"We can't live in that future we saw," G'fon added. "We can't live beneath temporal blockers. Your time we know is safe. We'll find a time more appropriate, a place along the stream where we can love, but we'll start that search at your time."
And the time kept going faster and faster until it was all a blur and then finally Akaal began moving her hands as if she had to physically slow it down.
I have had the displeasure of meeting and living with your kind for the last decade and maybe even longer because of you reversing time when ever you see fit.
This is Not my choice to live in various household sand it would’nt be my last wish either, I am very capable of standing up and working for my daily nurishment I would not take handout from you, particularly from…
feeling mad nostalgic as i listen to brothertiger and get ready to go ride bike. this summer is gonna be summer of 2011 all over again except the right way
