Chapter Text
‘Why didn't I know? Why didn't anyone care to tell me this! I can't go on a honeymoon!’ Crowley shrieked. ‘Do you really expect me to abandon my garage for another week!’
Aziraphale looked at his brand-new husband in disbelief. Well, that went down like a lead balloon.
After the, rather unorthodox, wedding ceremony, Mr Brown had happily announced that the married couple would go to Vienna for five days and stay four nights in one of the finest hotels of the city. A small honeymoon, gifted by the sponsors of the show.
Crowley paced the small office, looking everywhere but Aziraphale's direction.
‘Yes, you can.’ Furfur tried to calm down his friend. ‘Eric can take care of the place. Again. You've got to admit the boy has done an excellent job on his own during your absence.’
Crowley growled. Eric was not supposed to do an excellent job on his own, but Furfur was right. Tell the boy what to do and how to do it and you could bet your mother's life that the job would be done exactly as ordered. Furfur continued, ‘I've told you before and I will tell you again, your customers don't mind the waiting. In fact, if you tell them you're married and taking your beloved husband on a honeymoon, they will even bring you wedding gifts. You know, scented candles, matching pyjamas, a tea set, that kind of rubbish.’
‘That's not it,’ Crowley interrupted with a growl. One look at Aziraphale told him that he had just checked another box of his how-to-be-a-disappointment-list. ‘It's Rowan. He's bringing over one of his cars. I always drive him back home. We always take the Bentley. You know how much he loves that car.’
‘Really? Rowan is more important than Aziraphale? REALLY?! Then why don't the two of you get a fucking room!’ Furfur took a deep breath and continued in his sweetest voice (and that might have been worse than yelling), ‘Thanks to you, Eric is a qualified driver.’
Aziraphale watched the scene in silence, his arms firmly on his back. Anathema stood next to him, repressing an outburst. Mr Brown, who did not want to be a part of this, had taken Lucifer aside. They were discussing the second season of 7 Days, 7 Bachelors, 1 Wedding. If he was interested, Lucifer would be one of the desirable bachelors. Maze and Jay had miraculously disappeared. Bob, who had stayed behind and did not want to interfere with whatever was going on, kept filming against better judgement.
‘I will not have Eric drive my Bentley!’ Crowley spoke firmly, stamping his foot like a five-year old child.
‘What about your Ford Mustang?’
‘What about my Ford Mustang?’
‘Do you trust Rowan with your Ford Mustang?’
‘Yeah, sure. Why?’
Furfur thought it would be best to explain his plan in easy words, step by step. ‘Rowan hands over his car and the keys to Eric. Eric gives him the keys of your Mustang. Rowan drives back home with it. When Rowan's car is ready, you drive his car to his home and collect your Mustang again.’
The silence that followed was deafening. ‘Yes.’ Crowley finally nodded. Aziraphale tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. Crowley kept nodding. ‘Yes, that could work.’
Aziraphale exhaled sharply; he hadn’t even realised he had been holding his breath.
A big grin broke loose on Crowley’s face; he was no longer a disappointment. ‘Angel! Let's go on a honeymoon!’