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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...
AU, retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. Quite honestly, sending Aziraphale off into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle isn’t even the worst thing Gabriel’s ever done to him, and at least it means a change of scene. But then neither the snake nor the castle turn out to be quite what he’s expecting…
Crowley is terrified of losing Aziraphale again, but unable to confess his feelings. He follows Aziraphale on an errand to America, where they end up invited to a seder and spend the next year being invited to other holidays and gatherings on both sides of the Atlantic. Is Crowley's pining painfully obvious to everyone but Aziraphale? (Yes.) Are the rabbi and her wife going to try and get them together? (Yes.) How many Jewish holidays will these two ineffable idiots be invited to before they finally admit their feelings to each other? (Read it and see!)
After the argument, when Crowley kisses Aziraphale, he tastes something strange - almonds. Suspecting there was chicanery with Aziraphale's coffee, he stops time, Aziraphale clears his system, and they talk quickly - but for the sake of the earth they have to separate. Now it's a race with time to find the Son of God and stop the Second Coming.
And as soon as they're done with that, they're going to have a very long conversation.
With a handsome, successful fiance and a respectable home in Manhattan, Aziraphale Fell thought his life was more than adequate. He never expected to be jilted in a long-distance telephone call and so he sets out for England to find out exactly what's going on and gets a lot more than he bargained for.
French Kiss AU
“Well,” Gabriel says, “he might as well meet the whole family.
anthony crowley has two options: be deported back to South Africa or force his kind and soft assistant, aziraphale fell, into marrying him so he can stay in the country. on one hand, being deported maybe wouldn't be so bad, but on the other hand, aziraphale is kind of cute. cue a fake relationship, a whacky family, a cute dog, and a small town that hasn't seen anything like this before.
The expectations placed upon Aziraphale were simple and straightforward. Temple servants were to pledge themselves only to their goddess, care for those who entered the temple, keep the inner sanctums clean, never break their vows of loyalty and chastity, and never seek a life for themselves outside of the temple.
Aziraphale had accepted this fate, and played his role well… for a time.
Aziraphale was cursed with something powerful: a sympathetic heart. Within this heart bloomed something both wonderful and terrible, a deep longing for the love of a strange and spectacular man who unexpectedly came entered his life.
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.)