My beta, Lunasong365, did an amazing job, as always, and I thank her for her time and her clever suggestions. I couldn't have done this without her help.
Foreword: For the sake of surprising our favourite angel and demon, let's pretend the tv series does not adapt a preexisting book. And for the sake of self-indulgence… my fic, my casting (please, don't hate me, David Tennant fans).
"That film was awful," said Crowley, pouring the remaining wine into their glasses.
"I've never seen so many historical inaccuracies in one place," confirmed Aziraphale.
"And that habit of always casting white men for everything! They were supposed to be Egyptians!"
Aziraphale jumped at the chance to pontificate about the latest research on the genetic history of ancient Egyptians(1) and Crowley absent-mindedly listened to him, sipping his wine and half-eyeing the adverts following the movie, which included a promo for a forthcoming series.
[1 He'd read it on the internet. In January 2006, he'd asked Crowley to teach him how to use it. But it wasn't as funny as the demon had expected: by some miracle, the internet only showed Aziraphale interesting articles and rare books auctions. The moment the angel gazed at the computer screen, it was like silly memes, porn and pop-up ads with no close button had never existed.]
Crowley choked and almost spat out his wine, which made Aziraphale stop short.
"Are you alright, dear?"
"Hush!" The demon grabbed the remote to turn up the volume.
"Don't hush me and tell me what's wr-"
Crowley insistently gestured toward the television screen, until Aziraphale looked too, speechless(2) and eyebrows raised.
[2 A phenomenon almost as rare as a rain of fish.]
The promo ended and they incredulously stared at each other.
"What the hell…" started Crowley, breaking the silence.
"It must be a coincidence…"
"An angel and a demon who try to stop the Apocalypse!"
"Well, they could've imagined such a story."
"With a bookseller angel? And a lost Antichrist? Coincidence, my arse!"
"But… how? Nobody remembers what happened… except…"
"Adam!" they exclaimed in unison.
Aziraphale frowned. "I can't see why he'd…"
"We'll find out later. For now, I need to see it again." Crowley rewound the subsequent advert and the promo, letting Aziraphale baffled.
"You weren't recording, were you?"
Crowley reran the promo and, focused on the screen, mumbled that he'd explain how it worked after checking something crucial.
"You're right," said Aziraphale after the second viewing. "It's undoubtedly us."
"Yesss!" Crowley triumphantly hissed at the same time.
"What?"
"The actor who plays my role. I wasn't sure the first time but it's him! It's Riz Ahmed!"
"Is that… a good thing?"
"Angel, that guy played in Rogue One!" Aziraphale looked confused. "Star Wars!" The angel blinked twice. Crowley sighed. "Listen, he's cool, okay."
"Ah." Aziraphale seemed to briefly consider the matter. "And the actor who plays my role, who is he? I've never seen him."
"Richard Ayoade." Crowley did his best to keep a straight face, because he'd thought of Aziraphale several times while binge-watching The IT Crowd.
"Is he… cool?" asked the angel, with the air of someone who's far above such considerations.(3)
[3 And making "cool" sound as if there was a procession of quotation marks around the word, as was usual when he was borrowing what he used to call "a colloquial term from Crowley's colorful idiom".]
"Er… that's not really the word I'd use."
"He looks a little… weird."
Well, Aziraphale was a little weird, especially for an angel, but that was one of his charms. Though that kind of thing was a lot easier to say when one knows they're about to fight Satan and be saved from eternal embarrassment by their imminent annihilation. So Crowley remained silent.
"And he's so slim," resumed Aziraphale. "I guess they thought I… my character would look better that way."
Crowley could recognise a hurt tone concealed under a seemingly detached comment when he heard one.(4) Ah, maybe… maybe he could survive a bit of embarrassment after all.(5)
[4 He was familiar with this on a personal basis.
5 As if it was the first time.]
"Then they're idiots, angel."
Aziraphale gave him a surprised look. "You really think so?"
Since when did he care about Crowley's opinion on his appearance? For sure, the demon wasn't going to dig himself deeper by saying that his friend was perfect the way he was.(6)
[6 Because it wasn't a demonic thing to say. (And absolutely not because Crowley suspected he wouldn't be able to say it without blushing, even though it was silly because there was no reason to blush for saying to your friend he's good-looking, but it didn't matter anyway since a demon would definitely not say such things, so everything was perfectly fine, end of debate.)]
"Quit fishing for compliments, will you? We must learn more about it."
"I'm not… Hmpf. I'll contact Adam."
"And I'll search the Internet."
"All right. It said it'll be broadcast next week. Perhaps we can still prevent it."
"What? Why would you want to do that?"
"Crowley! People cannot find out about what happened. They'd be upset and scared and-"
"They'll just think it's a fantasy. Nobody's going to believe it's a true story."
"But what if that series attracts curious people into my bookshop?" whinged Aziraphale, looking really concerned this time.
"Surely it won't be located that precisely and there are many bookshops in London. Anyway, I'm sure nothing will happen that you won't be able to manage with just a bit more erratic open hours.(7)"
[7 Crowley had never paid close attention to Aziraphale's bookshop open hours because it had always been open for him. Therefore, he couldn't realise it was impossible to make them more erratic than they were already.]
He wasn't sure he had convinced him, but the angel didn't argue further and left, after they'd agreed to stay in touch.(8) Crowley closed the door and leaned against it.
[8 Which wasn't a great change: since the Almost-Apocalypse, they were rarely getting through a day without hanging out with each other or, at least, texting (with mixed results, because Aziraphale's messages were so long that they often turned incomprehensible, while Crowley's fanciful abbreviations and ambiguous emoticons got the angel lost in translation more than once).]
"I'll be as cool as James Bond," he dreamily whispered to himself, a delighted smile across his face.
The next day
Online information about the series was oddly scarce. Crowley found no pictures or anecdotes from the shooting, but the rest of the casting was available. He blessed when he read it. The promo had said "a demon and an angel," and he hadn't thought their own names would be divulged. Aziraphale wasn't going to like that, probably rightly. That could get them into trouble.
He scanned through the actors' names. As a series and film fiend, he recognised almost all of them. The four horsemen were played by Natalie Dormer, Tom Hiddleston, Steven Yeun and Peter Serafinowicz. A little strange, for someone who knew them, but an interesting choice. Ruth Negga was Anathema and Matthew Lewis, Newt. It was quite fitting. The best part was Hugh Laurie playing Hastur, and Peter Dinklage, Ligur.(9) There were other lesser-known British actors and actresses. The kids were obviously novice.
[9 The duke was short, but not that short. Not before he started crumpling due to the holy water, that is.]
He also learned that a certain Neil Gaiman had written the script – how that guy had known about them was a mystery.
Crowley was trying to hack into Adam's bank account(10) when Aziraphale phoned. "So what did Adam say?"
[10 He had stolen a letter from Adam's bank the last time Aziraphale had insisted to "pay the boy a courtesy call". Crowley had always been a bit of a kleptomaniac.]
"Hello, dear." The mild rebuke was unmistakable. "He wasn't there. But I met his neighbour. A lovely old lady who knows everyone in Tadfield. She had a delicious Earl Grey and-"
"Get to the point, angel. Where is he?"
Aziraphale huffed. "On holiday, and for a long time. Showing his children Earth, she said."
Crowley smirked as Adam's account history finally displayed. He skimmed it.
"No wonder with the tidy sum that Neil Gaiman paid him. Either Adam sold him ideas for the script, or he's even Gaiman's ghostwriter. I can't believe he's stepping on my toes. Television is my field."
"Was, dear. He retired us."
"Mmh. I see Adam also made a substantial donation to Greenpeace."
"There's at least something good from this whole affair. And I won't ask how you're in possession of such information."
"Yeah, I'd rather you tell me why you sound less worried than you were yesterday."
"He left us a note. The neighbour gave it to me."
"Why didn't you say that sooner?"
"I was about to when you cut me off. Rather rudely, I might add," retorted Aziraphale petulantly.
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Just spit it out!"
"He wrote…" started Aziraphale in a prim tone. He paused and Crowley knew he was unfolding the note to quote it exactly. "Hi, guys. I guess you'll show up sooner or later. Don't worry about the series. It's all for the best, I swear. I think you'll understand, at the end. And I promise no trouble will come from it."
"Is that all?"
"There are two postscripts. The first one says, Don't bother trying to contact me during my trip. I'll be under the radar for several weeks. And the second, Zira, your shop will be ok. With a… winking emoticon," said Aziraphale.(11)
[11 His tone made it clear that an emoticon in a handwritten note was absolutely inconceivable.]
"Do you trust him?"
"He said we wouldn't be in trouble after the Almost-Apocalypse and he was right," cautiously answered the angel.
"You've got a point."
"Anyway, since it's confirmed he's behind it, I doubt we could foil it. So… I suppose we could just… do nothing?"(12)
[12 They were incredibly good at it.]
"Right. Just enjoy the show." Crowley was relieved. Nothing was getting between him and his future Coolness.(13) "Erm… angel… you'll watch it here with me, of course?"
[13 No, Additional Coolness. He was already cool. Of course. Right? Right.]
"Gladly, my dear."
Crowley heard the smile in Aziraphale's voice and couldn't help grinning.