“Who-who does he think he is, anyways?! Still being so angelic, even-even though he shouldn't like those bastards! What-what did they ever do to support him, hmm? I, I've loved him for six. Thousand. Years. Do you know how long six thousand years is? It's a long time, a long long time. And I tried to stop, believe you me, I tried my hardest, because I'm a demon and I couldn't live with myself if I corrupted him-holy Hell-thats an oxymoron-because corrupting him would be the most horrible thing I'd've ever done. And I've done some pretty terrible things, let me tell you. The Terror in France? That was all me!” Crowley threw his hands in the air, while his very frustrated waitress stood in front of him.
“Sir, this is a Denny's-”
“So in the sixties, I offered him a ride-”
“Unless your going-”
“And he said 'You go to fast for me, Crowley'-”
“To order something-”
“So I slowed down! But even though we stopped the end of the world together-”
“You will need to leave-”
“And I still can't tell him that I'm in love with him!”
“Do you want food or not?!” The waitress shouted.
Crowley paused, and looked her over. She was a young lady, probably about nineteen, with bright hazel eyes and curly brown hair. Her cheeks were flushed with frustration, she was scowling, and Crowley suddenly felt guilty for ranting to her in at three am in an otherwise empty diner in Idaho. Then he felt frustrated that he was feeling guilty at all, then he realized that being around Aziraphale so much was probably causing him to feel guilt, then he was mad at Aziraphale, and then he felt horrible for being mad at Aziraphale, so he lowered his eyes and looked at the menu.
“Right-sorry-um, can I have a Cinnamon Roll Pancake Breakfast?” He asked.
To his surprise, the waitress smiled, and nodded. “Sure, that will be coming right up.”
The waitress went to tell the kitchen what his order was, and Crowley decided to just wallow in sadness and frustration until he got his pancakes. He was extremely surprised when the waitress sat down across from him.
“Six thousand years?”
Crowley sighed. “Unfortunately.”
“That's a long time.” The waitress also sighed, as if the depth of Crowley's yearning was finally hitting her. “I met my girlfriend in kindergarten, first got a crush on her in third grade, fell in love in the eighth, and we didn't get together until last month. It sucked, especially because she was so in the closet that during sophomore year, she wasn't single for more then a week, because she was convinced that if she just kept dating, she would find the one and stop being gay. I felt like my heart was being crushed.”
Crowley snorted. “Well, Aziraphale is still under an oath of chastity, so that makes the whole seeing him with someone else kind of a mute point. But he's also literally an angel, so that already makes it impossible.” At the waitress's confused look, Crowley clarified. “I'm a demon, he's an angel, so were supposed to be 'hereditary enemies'.”
“Ah.” The waitress nodded. “My girlfriend-her names Abby-came from a really religious family, think like super straight-laced, Roman Catholic folks. She was so scared of being perverted.”
Crowley smiled at the waitress-whose name tag, he was just noticing, said Cora. “The horrible thing is, is that I'm almost certain that he feels the same way. But, whenever I try to say something, I can't. I'm a goddamn demon, I shouldn't be scared! But it's like-it's like if I say it out loud, then...”
“Then you'll ruin everything.” Cora finished, nodding.
“Yeah.” Crowley sighed, before looking at Cora with mild confusion. “Your taking this whole 'demon angel' thing remarkably well for a human.”
Cora shrugged. “I work the night shift here. Last week a slightly charred corpse came in asking for pancakes. The week before that, a confused Sasquatch banged on the windows. Very few things surprise me anymore.”
“Huh.” Crowley smirked.
“So if your in love with Aziraphale, and you can't tell him out loud, then why not like...write him a letter, or something.”
“I'm a demon, we don't write letters and we don't take the easy way out.”
“Okay, but that's obviously not working. And, don't demons break rules?”
“Look, it's more complicated then that. And what would I even write?”
“I've been in love with you for six thousand years. Wanna grab coffee?”
“Oh, yes, because that will convey the depth of my feelings.”
“Dude, I'm just trying to help.” Cora shrugged again, before turning towards the kitchen. “Oh, your foods ready.”
Cora brought down the food-which smelt surprisingly good-and Crowley silently began to eat.
“I appreciate that your trying to help.” Crowley said after a minute. “I'm just rather miserable and drunk right now.”
“Well who isn't at this hour.” Cora gave him a wry smile, and then lifted up the salt shaker. In response, Crowley lifted up his spoon, and they did a non-traditional toast. “Cheers.”
***
“Cora! Cora I tried writing him a letter and then that bastard Gabriel took it!” Crowley announced, swinging the door open in a level of drama not really needed for a Denny's at four in the morning. “Wanna help me-are you pouring coffee for a zombie?”
Cora smiled, and the lady in the wedding dress with the missing eye, matted hair, and exposed ribcage gave Crowley a little wave. “Sarah's just undead, she's not dangerous.” At Crowley's raised eyebrow, she sighed. “The town's been having problems with 'unexplained phenomena', so my boss set up a deal with the CIA. As long as they stay here and don't bother anyone, they get unlimited pancakes, and the staff gets a one hundred and fifty dollars per hour, instead of seven dollars and seventy-five cents.”
“Oh.” Crowley paused. “Angels are bastards.”
“Does Aziraphale not love you back?”
“I don't know, he never got my letter. This bastard named Gabriel-he's another angel, despite all odds-took it from him before he could read it.” Crowley signed, running his hands through his hair. “So Aziraphale never got my message, and now the angels know that I'm in love with him. Damn it all, there probably gossiping by their stupid angel water cooler about it.”
“Shit.” Cora hustled him to a table and made him sit down. “Wait here, I have to get Sarah her food, then we'll talk.”
So Crowley sat there, and stewed in frustration and anger and sadness. Luckily, nobody else was in the restaurant except for Cora, the kitchen staff, and Sarah, who didn't seem like much of a talker. So at least Crowley didn't have to feel embarrassed.
God, he was bad at being a demon. Demons don't fall in love with angels. It's the first rule of being a demon. Not that demons have rules, really, but the whole 'we hate angels' thing is something that doesn't usually have to be stated.
But, then again, the traditional rules of Hell didn't really matter anymore, due to the whole 'Adam and the Them killed the Four Horsemen and Satan' situation. That didn't make Crowley feel any less guilty about his feelings. The last thing that he wanted to do was corrupt Aziraphale.
But before he could delve too deeply into his despair, Cora sat across from him, and slid a glass of water over to him.
“So, the letter didn't work.”
“Nope.”
“Well then, it's time to be upfront and tell him.”
“I'll take this secret to my grave, good idea.”
“Dude.”
“How did you tell Abby?” Crowley asked instead, deflecting the attention off of him.
“So one night Abby got really nervous and thought that a raccoon was trying to break into her house, so I came over with a bat in order to prevent the raccoon from getting into the house. So I'm outside, with this bat, while Abby stands in her doorway watching me. And I'm calling the raccoon a little bitch, and I suddenly hear Abby say “I've been your friend since I was four years old.” And I was like, yeah I know, and I turned around and she was just standing there watching me. And I'm like what is it? And she just said “I've been in love with you since we were eighteen”, and I shrieked, then she laughed at me, then one thing led to another and we had sex on her porch.” Cora smiled. “And now we live together.”
“So I should send a raccoon to attack Azriaphale, and then defeat it, and then he will tell me that he loves me?”
“I think that you should try to be honest with him and tell him that you love him.”
“I'm a demon, we don't do honesty.”
“Well your going to have to do honesty if you want to be with an angel, right?”
Crowley just glared and drank his water angrily.
***
Turns out, talking worked quite marvellously.
***
The next time that Crowley went to Denny's, he brought Aziraphale with him. Cora got them a table, and they shared pancakes and held hands. Aziraphale was still wearing a suit, and Crowley wore his sunglasses, and the world felt bright and clean and safe.
And Crowley didn't feel guilty.