Chapter Text
Crowley sat quietly, although broodingly, in his usual leather armchair as Arizaphale ran inventory in the bookshop. It was a painfully dull Wednesday afternoon, and now that they no longer had to deal with their respective sides watching them post-Apocalnope, Crowley wanted to get the hell out of London and stir up some trouble elsewhere.
However, Aziraphale had a nasty habit of actually working on weekdays and the occasional weekend, even though he never sold any books.
“Angel,” Crowley grumbled behind his magazine.
“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale replied without looking up from his checklist.
“Close up the shop, let’s get lunch.”
“Now, Crowley, you know I can’t just close up whenever I want.”
“Yes, you can! You do it all the time, and it’s deader than hell around here, I’m bored.”
“I’m sure your plants could use a stern talking to if you’re looking for something to do.” Arizaphale says.
“Angel,” Crowley whines. “Don’t make me beg.”
“You would never!” Aziraphale snorts at glances over at Crowley. “Just let me finish up, dear boy, and we’ll go.”
“Righto.” Crowley smirks, knowing Aziraphale has no ability to resist good food. He settles back into his armchair, reveling in his small victory.
At lunch:
“I’m tired of London, angel.” Crowley sighs as he takes another bite.
“Oh?” Aziraphale gasps. “Why is that?”
“We’ve been here for ages, I think we’ve done enough holy and unholy miracles for them, don’t you think?”
“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale tuts. “What about my bookshop? I couldn’t bear to leave it behind.”
“You’re telling me you enjoy looking at the same hundreds of books every day?”
“Of course!” Aziraphale gapes. “I cherish them. I have dozens of timeless classics and first editions. How could anyone not enjoy that?” Crowley lowers his sunglasses just enough to throw a glance across the table at the angel, who sighs deeply.
“I suppose,” Aziraphale starts, “That we could use a vacation.”
“Now that’s the spirit! Where would you want to go? Anywhere you haven’t been in the last 6,000 years? Anywhere you’d like to go again?”
“That’s such a loaded question!” The angel laughs. “I’d have to really ponder it.”
“Well, ponder faster angel, we’re leaving Saturday.”
“Two days! Crowley, that’s not nearly enough time to get everything settled. Who’s going to water your plants?”
“Nobody. They wouldn’t dare die on me.”
“I suppose that’s true…” Aziraphale mutters, bringing his fingers up to his chin.
“You’ve already agreed, angel. Better decide where you want to go, otherwise I’m choosing.”
“Oh, no, I’ll come up with something. You always choose Egypt.”
“I love Egypt, what’s wrong with Egypt?” Crowley frowns.
“Nothing! But we’ve been there so many times. There’s so many scenic countries we’ve never seen. What about Australia, or Greenland, or Canada?”
“Canada is more of your scene rather than mine, no?” Crowley jokes. “They’re all so nice.” He grimaces.
“Yes, Canadians are quite lovely.”
“...Wretched.” Crowley says in unison. Aziraphale frowns at Crowley, who shrugs. “I mean yeah, real lovely bunch of blokes.”
“Oh, dear. What about Australia? A healthy dose of both our sides down there, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Too hot. Too much dirt.”
“That is true.”
“Greenland is always cold, right?” Crowley asks.
“Not sure, I assume so since it’s so North.”
“Eh, not in the mood for snow come to think of it. Ruins a good pair of shoes.”
“So where then, Crowley, since you seem so against all of my ideas?” Aziraphale sighs.
“I’ll come up with something.” Crowley shrugs, leaning back in his chair and placing his fork down.
“Not Egypt?” Aziraphale smiles weakly.
“No promises. Haven’t seen it since the 18th century, could be nice now.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighs again.
“Angel, I’m only joking. Not Egypt.” Crowley says and Aziraphale releases the breath he’d been holding for dramatics. “This time.” Crowley smirks.
“Crowley!” He slaps the demons arm. “I don’t take kindly to jokes.”
“Oh trust me, I know.”
Later that evening, Crowley sits at his desk with his phone to his ear, impatiently listening to the irritating buzz from the other end. As much as he hates to admit it - he needs guidance.
“Hello?” A female voice answers.
“Yeah, hi,” Crowley mumbles.
“Mr. Crowley?” She says.
“Yeah, Anathema. Drop the ‘Mr.’. I have a favor to ask.”
“From me?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, okay?”
“Aziraphale and I are going out of town.”
“Really? That’s nice!” She sounds surprised.
“Listen, I want to take him somewhere he’ll enjoy. He always complains when I choose where we go.”
“So you’re asking me for...recommendations?”
“Yes, I guess I am.”
“Um, okay! Did he suggest where he might like to go?”
“Ah, Canada, Australia, or Greenland.”
“Canada is lovely. Went there a bunch as a kid.”
“Great. Any museums or libraries around those parts?”
“Of course they have museums and libraries, Crowley.”
“Well?”
“The Library of Parliament in Ottawa is pretty neat. One of the biggest in the world.”
“Do you think he’d enjoy it?”
“I don’t know, Crowley. You know him much better than I do. Do you think he’d enjoy it?”
“Yes, I think he would.”
“Then I don’t think you need much of my help.” There’s a pause. “This is very thoughtful of you.”
“Do shut up.” Crowley grimaces and hangs up.
The next morning, Crowley arrives at the shop right as Aziraphale is opening the blinds, and he smiles when he sees the demon exiting the Bentley.
Before Crowley can even think to reach for the handle, the door is already swinging open, welcoming him in as per usual.
“Good morning, darling.” Aziraphale calls as Crowley enters the dark room. He won’t admit it, but his cheeks warm slightly at the endearment.
“Morning, angel.” He replies as he looks around the shelves for him, finding him in the back by his office. “I’ve something for you.”
“Oh?” Aziraphale clasps his hands together in excitement. “What is it?”
“Here,” Crowley hands Aziraphale a plane ticket. “Per your suggestion.”
“Canada!” Aziraphale yelps. “Oh, Crowley, you’re going to hate it.”
“At least I’ll have you there to complain about it to.”
“What’s in Ottawa?”
“A library.”
“We’re going to Ottawa because of a library?”
“It’s not just any old library, Angel. But would it matter?” Crowley frowns.
“No, not in the slightest.” He smiles warmly, gazing softly up at Crowley. “Thank you, my dear. This is going to be wonderful.”
“Don’t mention it.” Crowley shrugs noncommittally and stalks off to go hide yet another blush on his hollowed cheeks.
In Canada, they visit the Library of Parliament.
Maybe Aziraphale sheds a tear.
Maybe Crowley pretends not to feel accomplished.