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But it was as Aziraphale stepped into the lift he realised he was wrong. Well, not just then but it was the moment he knew it for sure.
"Wait." Aziraphale said. "Please, just hold on for one moment I just need to... grab something. Yes! I shall be back in two shakes of a lambs tail."
"Of course. Take your time." Came the response from Metatron.
And with that Aziraphale walked very quickly out of the lift and round the corner of the Dirty Donkey. He tried looking for Crowley but he could not see him anywhere.
And that's when he started to run.
Stumbling through the streets, Aziraphale passed hordes of people going about their day, not knowing what had occurred in the past few minutes. Or hours. Or days. Or weeks or months for that matter.
They did not know the turmoil inside of him. The burning- the aching something that made his heart feel as though it was on fire. They did not know that his heart felt like it was going to pop if he did not do something soon. They did not know anything.
He needed to find Crowley.
Almost crying, Aziraphale threw himself at his bookshop's door. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the key and unlocked the door, almost pulling it off its hinges as he did so.
"Oh, blast it." He choked.
Almost falling down the stairs on the other side of the door, Aziraphale threw himself at the chair that lived beside his desk. He was glad nobody was around.
He was frightened. He was angry. And he was so sad. So plain miserable.
And with that he began to sob. Tears ran down his face onto his jacket but he did not care. He cried and cried and cried. His hands clutched at his white hair, pulling on it.
Why did he have to go and muck things up again? He'd really done it now. He'd thought Crowley would want to come back to their side. To Heaven. With him.
But he was wrong. So very wrong. Crowley didn't want to come back to Heaven. Especially not with him.
But that couldn't be right. Crowley had always stuck with him. Through thick and thin. They had always been a team. A duo.
Crowley and Aziraphale, against the world. Together.
But now it was just Aziraphale, against the world. His Crowley had gone missing.
His crying began to slowly subside. Tears still rolled down his cheeks, but new ones had yet to form in his eyes. Glad of this, he tried to stand but his legs gave way under him. He landed back in his chair.
It was at this very moment he knew what he had to do. He had to find Crowley. Crowley always had a plan. He would know what to.
But what if Crowley doesn't want me? A small voice spoke at the back of Aziraphales mind. What if he rather we never spoke again? He snuffed that thought out quickly.
Of course Crowley would want to see him again. They were a team! They'd been on Earth with eachother for over 6,000 years, he wouldn't leave now, surely.
A sharp knocking derailed Aziraphale's train of thought. That could only be one person. He wiped his face on his jacket; an attempt to look presentable.
"Just a moment!" He called out. Slowly he made his way to the door. The blinds on the door were covered so the mystery knocker remained a mystery.
"Look I just want to say-" Aziraphale began. But then he stopped. It was not who he expected. It was Metatron. "Oh! Sorry I thought you were... someone else. Nevermind."
"You thought I was your demon friend, Crowley." Metatron replied sololmey.
"I did rather." Aziraphale's eyes shone with yet unshed tears.
"Sorry to disappoint." Metatron did not sound sorry. In fact, he sounded almost happy. Happy that Crowleys was gone.
"No, no. It's not your fault." Aziraphale smiled weakly.
"Now, are you ready to take your place as Supreme Archangel of all the Heavens and the Earth, Aziraphale?" Metatron said.
"Hmm? Oh, I... I... what? No! I never wanted to... What?" Aziraphale stuttered. He didn't want to go back to Heaven! They had tried to kill him! Why would he ever want to go back?
"To take your place. As Supreme Archangel. In Heaven." Metatron said, smiling.
"No! I don't want to go back to Heaven!" Aziraphale stepped backwards. "They wouldn't have me! I... No! Sorry, no!"
"But it's your duty!" Metatron changed. His face stoney, his voice monotone. "You need to do this!"
"Really, what has gotten into you, Metatron?" Aziraphale asked. "I've said I don't want to do it! Please, give the job to someone else. What about Michael? Or Uriel? I sure either of them would-"
"No! It has to be you!" Metatron walked towards Aziraphale, who was still stumbling backwards into his shop. "Why didn't the miracle work?"
"What miracle? What are you talking about?" Aziraphale was panicking now. "What do you mean 'didn't work'?
"The coffee, you stupid angel! The coffee was supposed to make you want to be an archangel!"
Aziraphale's world halted. Had Metatron tried to... miracle him into wanting to be an archangel?
"Now really, what is going on?" Aziraphale managed to croak out.
"You really are as slow as they told me. I. Tried. To. Miracle. You. Into. Wanting. To. Be. An. Archangel. Got that?" Metatron asked, words full of poison. He had stopped in the middle of the room. "Now. Are you going to take your place? Or am I going to have to make you?"
Aziraphale was in shock. This can't be happening. Not to him. Not today.
"I'm not going." He said definently. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be going now." Aziraphale did not look back once he reached the door.
"Aziraphale, you get back here or I'll-" Metatron started.
"Or you'll what, tell the archangels?" Now it was Aziraphale's turn to grin. "I didn't think you had any. Toodle-pip!" And he left the book shop without another word.
But it had come to the part in the plan that Aziraphale had not thought about yet. There was currently an angry angel in his bookshop and Crowley was no where to be seen. He really hadn't thought about this.
It was just then he heard someone calling his name. But in a familiar way. The same way an old friend might call it. Although he wasn't sure he had any old friends. Or just one old friend. Not anymore.
Now the person really was shouting his name.
"Aziraphale! You silly bastard, turn around!" Crowley was shouting at him out of the window of his car
"Crowley?" Aziraphale muttered. "Crowley!" He called out more confidently.
"Yes, it's me! Come on now! Hurry!" Crowley continued shouting as Aziraphale hurried toward The Bentley. "Really, can't you go any faster?"
"No, I'm afraid not. This is my top speed!" Aziraphale shouted back.
This made Crowley laugh. And what a nice sound is was too. Oh how he'd missed him.
"Get in, angel." Crowley said, throwing open the passage door for Aziraphale from inside the car. He clambered in quickly. "Let's get this show on the road!" Crowley cried as he slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The Bentley left only a trail of dust behind. The public was unsure of what to make of the whole situation.
First things first, the nice Mr. Fell who ran the book shop had fallen into his own shop. Then an older man had followed him, who hovered at the door for a while, sipping a coffee. Eventually he had kocked. But once Mr. Fell had answered the door, he had seemed strange. Then the whole shouting match about 'not going back to Heaven' and not wanting to be an 'archangel', whatever that ment. And now a strange man (who many said had run out of the shop little more than half an hour ago) was shouting at him to get into his car, and Mr. Fell was doing just that. Now they were both speeding down the road as the old man appeared out of the bookshop once more, shaking his fist at the dust left behind.
What a strange day indeed.
Inside the speeding car, Aziraphale was talking very quickly.
"And then he said he had tried to miracle me into wanting to be an archangel! I mean, honestly! Not even giving me the option of saying no! It really is quite..."
"Demonic?" Crowley supplied, taking his eyes momentarily off Aziraphale to swerve around a pedestrian.
"Yes, exactly!" Aziraphale breathed properly for what felt like the first time in ages. "And look, I just wanted to say, I feel terrible about... you know... everything I said... will you...?" He ground himself to a halt.
"Will I...?" Crowley repeated, a grin catching the corner of his lips. "Will I what, angel?"
"Will you... forgive... me?" Aziraphale spluttered. "For everything I did and said? Please?" He was now looking at Crowley with worried eyes. All the thoughts he'd had back in the bookshop came washing over him again.
"Oh, go on then." Crowley said after a moment. "But on one condition."
"Anything. Anything at all." Aziraphale said quickly. And it was true. He would do anything for Crowley to forgive him. Anything at all.
"You do the little dance." Crowley said, smiling broadly as Aziraphale's eyes widened.
"Really? I mean." Aziraphale blushed momentarily. "I mean if that's what you want. If that's what it'll take, then I'll do it."
"Oh and thinking about it, there is one more thing you can do." Crowley said, taking his eyes off Aziraphale again to snap his fingers to change a set of traffic lights from red to green.
"Just so long as it doesn't involve anything humiliating, then I'll do it." Aziraphale gulped. What else could Crowley want?
"You take me to the Ritz. Take us. We go to the Ritz. But you pay." Crowley was babbling. "We go. Together. But you pay. And we're both-"
"Of course I'll take you to the Ritz, you fool. I'll take you anywhere you want." Aziraphale said, earnestly.
"You really mean that, don't you?" Crowley asked, his eyes shining and a smile playing about his lips.
"Of course I do! I'd go anywhere, do anything, say anything, just to be around you. Just for you to forgive me." Aziraphale quickly corrected.
"Well if it means anything. To you I mean." Crowley began. "I'd do anything or go anywhere or say anthing to be around you, angel."
"Now, Crowley. You don't have to say that." Aziraphale was beginning to get choked up again, but for a whole different reason. He was happy. So very happy.
"I mean it. I ment every word." Crowley said tearfully. Now he was getting choked up too.
"Pull over a second." Aziraphale said gently.
Crowley pulled into a bus stop over two lanes of traffic.
"Look, Crowley." Aziraphale turned to face Crowley as properly as he could while sitting in the passenger seat of the Bentley. "I remember everything that happened in the bookshop. And I... regret some of it. Regret some of the things I said. But more importantly..." Aziraphale placed a hand over one of Crowley's. "I regret some of the things I did."
He was staring into Cowley's still tearfull eyes, hoping he understood what he was getting at.
"I also regret some of my actions." Crowley admitted. He interlocked his slender fingers with Aziraphale's. "But there was one thing I don't regret. Not too much at least."
"Me either, dear boy." Aziraphale said.
"Oh, I really hope we're thinking of the same moment otherwise this is-" Aziraphale cut Crowley off by pulling him in for a kiss. The same way Crowley had pulled him in at the bookshop.
But this time it was bliss. Like fireworks had exploded inside both of them at the same time and causing the world around them to light up with joy.
Crowley was the one to break the perfect moment. Gasping for air he said, "I'm glad we were both thinking the same thing otherwise that could have got a wee bit awkward." Grinning from ear to ear, he stared the car back up.
"Me too, me too. Could have really mucked things up." Aziraphale replied, truring back to face the road, also grinning. They were back. It was just him and his Crowley, against the world. As it should be.
"Where to now, angel? The Ritz?"
"That would be spleded, dear."