writing and such

"Really, Crowley, it's bad enough having everything replaced without you moving things. Don't tell me you're still tired after that nap you took." "After the events of the last eleven years, I believe I will be tired for the rest of the century." Crowley's voice turned uninterested, but he shifted his weight in the chair in a way that had nothing to do with the angle of the sun and everything to do with the topic. Aziraphale studied him. Crowley was still relaxed, ready, as ever, to slip into a nap wherever he was, but something was off, exactly like the arrangement of the bookstore. It was no fun to complain if Crowley wasn't immediately rushing to fix everything, even as he pretended he wasn't. Aziraphale drummed his fingers on the box, then clucked. "Well, if you're still tired, let me freshen up the spare bedroom. I ought to see if anything's changed there anyway."

Aziraphale is sitting in the park, reading and watching all the humans that pass by. Crowley suddenly joins him, furthering his musings on this and that until they’re interrupted by a gentleman who seems to have got the wrong impression

Oh, he could remember. Before everything, when angels groomed each other's wings in Heaven. Even after Heaven and Hell split into different factions and started their bickering, some of them would bask in the Earth's young sun as it fell between Eden’s verdant leaves and preen. But Gabriel usually chased them off, telling them they had work to do and that they didn't have eternity anymore. Whilst writing his account of the Apocalypse That Wasn't, Aziraphale broke his quill and then broke down. Crowley offers a feather and some comfort. Or, the story of how Aziraphale got the black feather seen in the Good Omens: Lockdown video.

Crowley sets up a stargazing picnic for Aziraphale, and they spend an evening enjoying one another’s company.

“Why don’t you drive us somewhere?” Crowley could not help his lips from parting and his brows from rising in heartfelt bafflement. Aziraphale- actively asking to endure Crowley’s driving that he despised so fervently? Intrigued, he jolted into motion, turning his entire body to face Aziraphale fully now. “...really? Like where?" Only upon saying these words out loud did Crowley realise that he’d already swung his legs around and placed his feet on the ground. Following this, there really was no use in letting Aziraphale answer his question. Crowley was going to go along with it, with anything, either way at this point. Less than a minute later, they were speeding past dangerously yellow lights with an unreasonably high number on the clock. or: Having successfully averted the end of the world, one night, Crowley proposes they do something nice. Aziraphale has a suggestion. Crowley rolls with it. They talk, and drive, and sip wine under the star-covered night sky, getting lost in their own world.

Crowley doesn’t know it yet, but this is going to be the first, last, and only night he spends in the bookshop.

In which Crowley and Aziraphale get drunk, play poker, and then everything changes. Or: Why TF is Aziraphale giving Gabriel his spare room while he let Crowley live in his car for years? Oh, this is why.

Set in canon between season 1 and season 2. Title lifted from a Neon Trees song of the same title.