Work Text:
One Week After Lockdown
Aziraphale stared at the recipe book with a frown. He was quite certain that he didn’t have any coffee liqueur, and yet this espresso cake looked absolutely delightful. Perhaps he could substitute it for something else? He scanned his table overflowing with eggs and flour and sugar and cakes. Lots and lots of cakes.
He had made Devil’s food cake and black forest cake and chocolate sin cake and, oh, he’d rather gotten into a theme, hadn’t he?
Surely, Crowley would have coffee liqueur. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind dropping some off. Aziraphale picked up his phone and paused, staring at all his cakes.
Really, what rules was he so afraid of breaking? Certainly not the rules about self isolating and social distancing – they weren’t even capable of spreading the illness. No, those were just convenient substitutes for the real, unspoken rules between them.
No socializing without a reason, whether it be work or celebration.
No drinking together two nights in a row.
No unnecessary touching.
No…spending extended periods of time together in one room with little to do but enjoy each other’s company.
In other words, no breaking of the status quo. No risk of sparking the potential between them, of changing the meaning of it all.
But why shouldn’t they? Armageddon was over and done. They were on their own side. Shouldn’t they get to decide what that side meant? The only thing stopping them, these days, was Aziraphale’s fear.
Goodness, no wonder he had taken to baking with such a storm. Well, even he could only eat so much; he would make himself sick, eventually. And the solution was quite simple, wasn’t it?
Nodding to himself, Aziraphale dialed. The line rang for a long time before being answered by a groggy demon.
“’s it July already?”
“Not quite, dear. You know, demons are all about breaking the rules.”
“Yeah. So?”
“And I really can’t have you out and about tempting people and risk them getting ill.”
“I told you, I’ve been sleeping—”
“Which is why,” Aziraphale continued quickly, “I have determined that the best way of thwarting you is to keep an eye on you.”
There was a moment of silence. Then a hopeful, “Yeah?”
Aziraphale squared his shoulders. “You really should come over right away, or else I shall be forced to come fetch you.”
“Wouldn’t want that.” There was the sound of rustling and movement over the line, as if Crowley had quite suddenly gotten out of bed.
“And dear?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Slip a coffee liqueur into that case, won’t you?” He wouldn’t be needing any substitutes. It was much better to work with the real thing.
Crowley’s smile was so large Aziraphale could hear it. “Anything for you, angel.”