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No one who had ever seen Aziraphale Fell in his youth would have supposed him born to be a hero. His situation in life, the character of his father and mother, his own person and disposition, were all equally against him. But when a gentleman is to be a hero, the attractions of a comfortable, quiet home cannot prevent him. Something must and will happen to throw his destiny in his way.
One should never forget that between a hero and his destiny, one will always find a villain.
Trusting parish rector Aziraphale attempts to navigate Regency Bath, the marriage market, and the complexities of his own heart in this take on Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey.
A perfect day in Crowley's dream job as a nature reserve manager stands to be ruined by the arrival of Aziraphale, a representative from the Marketing department at head office, investigating "commercial sponsorship opportunities" for the organisation. After what happened last time someone from Marketing visited, Crowley is prepared to fight to protect his precious reserve from corruption, and decides to show Aziraphale every beautiful aspect of nature he can in an attempt to get him on his side.
After several days together, Crowley only realises that Aziraphale isn't the monster he expected him to be when it's almost time for him to leave, and struggles to get him out of his mind after he's gone. But Eric, Crowley's dedicated and perceptive intern, will intervene however necessary to bring the two of them back together, and it just so happens there's a reserve managers' meeting coming up at head office, and Crowley's going to need a place to stay...
London, 2019: While Crowley’s poking around the bookshop one day, he discovers Aziraphale’s collection of Regency romance novels, and starts reading—and is surprised to discover striking parallels to a long-ago summer...
Devon, 1817: Aziraphale’s only here to ensure that young heiress Margaret is set on the proper philanthropic path. And, of course, if Evil’s going to show up (in the unfortunately dashing form of Crowley) and start trying to lure her into iniquity? Well, it’s simply Aziraphale’s duty to make sure he doesn’t succeed—by keeping a very close eye on him...
Crowley is born a run of the mill angel. There is only one catch though. He is given a prophecy by God to be the first and only angel to fall in love. That's clearly off the table when he falls from Heaven though, right?
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“You are going to be one of my little tests,” God said, humor lacing her words. Crowley blinked, feeling for all the world a bit like a white sheet of nothingness.
“No need to have a response, you’ll get acclimated to existence in time. When you are ready, I will tell you,” God said. Before Crowley could think to ask what exactly that meant, she was gone. Crowley felt like the first infant who had their parent hide behind their hands, except he had no knowledge of the peek-a-boo! to come. For all he knew, the voice in the sky was just a brief thing that happened to everyone.
A lot of things were unsaid, leading up to the failed apocalypse. Here they are.
(Or, what went on in Crowley’s head during and in between all of their scenes together.)
Crowley finds himself in another universe; Aziraphale goes to fetch him. In the meantime, Team Free Will has to figure out what to do with the 6,000 year old demon that won't stay in a devil's trap and keeps rooting through Dean's vinyl collection. Shenanigans ensue.
A Narrative of Certain Events following the Ending of the World (Except Not Quite), as vaguely hinted at in The Slapdash and Not Very Helpful Prophetic Tidbit of Agnes Nutter, Witch (And Matchmaker.)
"Their lives are in horrible, terrible danger that only we can save them from!" Anathema held up the Prophetic Tidbit. "It says so. Right here."
Madame Tracy peered at the page.
Raised a meaningful eyebrow.
"Dearie, as a woman of, well, considerable experience, I really don't think that's what 'the lyttle Deathe' means in this context..."
"Huh." Anathema squinted. Flipped the page. Read another bit. "....huh."
(Or, alternatively: Eight - give or take - matchmakers trying really, really hard, honest; two clueless ethereal/occult beings mutually pining their endless days away; and one witch, who can't leave well enough alone when it comes to matters of the heart, no matter how many centuries ago she died.)