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It had been a successful trip. Aziraphale wished he felt better about that.
I've done what I was sent to do, he told himself. I don't have to think about anything else until the boat docks. It was several days' journey down the river; he could let himself forget about the future for a while. His family had recommended that he travel under an alias, so for the next few days, he could be someone else, live someone else's life. If he thought about it like that, it really wasn't so bad, was it?
He allowed himself to be showed to his room (the best the boat had available, of course) and made himself comfortable there. He unpacked his things, putting his clothes into drawers and various toiletries onto a tray designed to keep them from sliding away if the waters grew rough. He also took a large and elegantly bound book from his luggage, inspected it briefly, and set it on his bedside table. A casual observer might have assumed that it was a bible, but it wasn't.
Once he was satisfied that all was arranged as it should be, he went to see what else there was to do.
He wandered into the main gallery and found a few of the other guests had already gotten the same idea. A few men had fallen into card games with each other, and at the far end of the room, two bartenders were serving drinks from a wide bar. One of them was a stout man with hairy forearms and a handlebar mustache. The other...
Aziraphale suddenly wondered if he was going to enjoy this trip more than he'd thought he would.
He sidled up to the end of the bar where the object of his interest was working. He was even more striking up close: a tall, lean man, dressed in well-cut black clothing that emphasized the grace of his figure. He had vividly red hair, and his sleeves were rolled back to reveal tattoos of writhing snakes. Aziraphale had not spent a lot of time around people who wore tattoos, and he found himself entranced by the almost lifelike way the snakes seemed to move every time the bartender gestured.
"Good afternoon," he said, as he slid onto an empty stool.
"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome aboard the Jewel of the River. What can I do for you today?"
Was it Aziraphale's imagination, or had he given Aziraphale an appreciative glance just now? Just the thought of it made his face go warm.
I'm sure he's just realizing I probably have money...
All the same, he would enjoy sitting here with a cold drink and admiring the scenery, and not just the views of the river that were currently slipping past the windows.
He found himself hoping that this would turn out to be a long trip.
Crowley had not been expecting much from this trip. The Jewel of the River had a bit of class, and the rougher types tended to go somewhere else. He fully expected that all of his customers would be nice, boring people just looking to have a pleasant time on the river while on their way from point A to point B.
But he perked up a little when he saw his first arrival. Now here was someone worth looking at! He watched out of the corner of his eye as the newcomer slid onto a stool on his side of the bar. Crowley made up his mind right then that he was going to make a regular customer of this angelic person or else he couldn't call himself a bartender.
"And what will you be having today?" he asked.
"What would you recommend?"
"Well, a mint julep is traditional. Care to give it a try?"
Damn, but the man had a glorious smile; it lit up the room more brightly than the sun reflecting off the water.
"Why, yes, that sounds lovely," said the newcomer.
Crowley obligingly began muddling mint leaves and sugar. "And will you be paying now, or shall I start a tab for you?"
"Let's start a tab. I'll be traveling the whole way, so it will be easier to pay at the end."
"Very good. Can I get a name, then?"
"Fell. Asa Fell."
Crowley jotted it down in his ledger. "Interesting name. Not sure I've heard the name 'Asa' before." He was thinking, Asa Fell... I could fall for a guy like you for sure.
"It's a biblical name," said Asa. "Some king or other was named Asa."
"Well, I'm Crowley - Anthony Crowley," said Crowley. "You need anything while you're here, feel free to ask for me."
"You're too kind," Asa murmured. He took the drink Crowley set in front of him and sipped it appreciatively. Crowley watched the blissful expression on his face and tried not to ogle too openly. "Oh, that is just what I needed. You mix a good drink, Mr. Crowley. I shall definitely be dropping by to see you again."
Crowley grinned. "Well, if I'm not here, my pal over there mixes a pretty good drink too."
Asa grinned back. "Maybe I like you, though."
"Well, I am pretty likable, it's true," said Crowley. He had definitely seen a speculative gleam in his new friend's eye. And why not? That kind of thing might be frowned upon in polite society, but what happened on the riverboat stayed on the riverboat. Dropping his voice, he said, "I get off shift at nine. Meet me on the rear deck later and I'll give you a private tour of the boat."
Asa's lashes fluttered coyly. "That sounds delightful."
"Then I'll look forward to it," said Crowley, and meant it. It had been a long, long time since he'd met anyone as appealing as Asa Fell. Of course, he'd probably be a bit shy and inexperienced. It would take some time to win him over, but that was all right. He'd said he was staying aboard for the entire trip, and anyway, half the fun was in the chase.
Another customer sat down at the far end of the bar, and Crowley had no choice but to go and attend to him. He winked at Asa and was pleased to see him blush and hide behind his drink.
It's a good thing he's staying the whole way, he thought. I think I'll be sorry to see the last of him...
Aziraphale's heart was pounding. Had he really made a date with a man he barely knew? Had he actually been asked for a date by the most gorgeous man he'd ever met? What on earth did he think was going to happen? What did he even want to happen?
At this point, the only thing that was keeping him from turning around and hiding in his room was the knowledge that this was only so big a boat and the two of them would inevitably run into each other again later. Aziraphale did not want to deal with the awkwardness of having to either snub a perfectly good bartender for the rest of the trip, or else explain to him why he'd stood him up.
So with sweating palms and shaking knees, he made his way to the stern of the boat. He found himself feeling like a salmon swimming upstream; everyone else he met was heading for the bow, where there would be gambling and dancing and other entertainment. The further he went, the fewer people he encountered.
But all the way at the back of the boat was a lone figure dressed in black, leaning casually against a railing and flipping a coin. The man himself was barely visible, just one darker shadow against the rest, but the coin caught the moonlight and left a trail of flashes in the air where it passed.
"Crowley?" he said uncertainly.
The shadow straightened up, raised the brim of its hat and grinned.
"So, we meet again," he said. "Wasn't actually sure you were going to show."
"Well, you did ask very politely," said Aziraphale, offering a tentative smile. "I thought I'd like to come see what you had to show me."
"I'm happy to show you whatever you want to see," said Crowley. As he spoke, he was rolling the coin through his fingers, passing it from hand to hand. Aziraphale watched in fascination.
He's awfully clever with his hands, he thought, and tried not to blush.
"You're good at that," he said.
"What, this?" said Crowley. He held the coin up, showing that it was a silver disc with an apple stamped on one side and a coiled snake on the other. "This is my lucky piece. Won a bet with a smith years ago and he didn't have any regular money left on him so he gave me this. I always carry it when I want a little extra luck."
"And do you need extra luck tonight?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley grinned. "Well, I met you, didn't I? So I'm already feeling pretty lucky tonight."
Aziraphale ducked his head, peering at his new friend through his lashes.
"I think I must be very lucky, too," he said.
"Great," said Crowley. "It's nice when we're all on the same page. Let's take a walk."
The two of them began walking along the deck. Aziraphale's spirits were soaring. Even though all they were doing was strolling side by side, not even touching, there was still a sense in the air that exciting things were afoot. Anyway, it was a beautiful night, there was music playing somewhere, and a fascinating man who seemed to like him was walking by his side.
"Come on," said Crowley. "I'll show you something most people don't get to see."
Following his lead, Aziraphale found himself facing a locked door set amid some rickety wooden fencing, clearly there to keep guests away from some of the more dangerous machinery. Crowley unlocked it and beckoned Aziraphale inside. Aziraphale stepped through the gate with a giddy sense of getting away with the forbidden. Once the door had been closed and locked again behind them, Crowley led the way past a lot of mysterious gears and wheels to a ladder that led up to the roof.
"Are we going up there?" asked Aziraphale nervously.
"It's safe," Crowley assured him. "There's a railing all around. Don't you trust me?"
Without waiting for an answer, he scurried up the ladder. At the top, he paused and turned back, extending a hand in wordless reassurance: You'll be fine. I've got you.
So Aziraphale went up. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought; the ladder was a sturdy one with good wide rungs, and it wasn't really as high as it had looked from the bottom. Once he neared the top, Crowley took his hand to help him the rest of the way. Even when they were both securely standing on the rooftop, neither of them tried to let go. They began strolling around the perimeter.
"So, tell me," said Aziraphale, "do you always invite your customers for moonlit promenades?"
Crowley grinned. "Only the really good-looking ones. I liked the look of you, so I thought I'd take a chance."
Aziraphale blushed and murmured, "I like the look of you, too."
"Glad to hear it," said Crowley. "So, tell me a little something about yourself. What brings you to the river?"
"I've been up north on business," said Aziraphale vaguely.
"It didn't go well?"
Aziraphale grimaced; he'd hoped he was keeping his tone light.
"Well, you see, the thing is," he said wretchedly, "I've just gotten engaged."
"Oh." He saw Crowley's face fall.
"It wasn't my idea," said Aziraphale. "Our families fixed it up between us. I've only met her a few times - hardly know anything about her but her name. But we're going to get married as soon as I get home. I was buying her a wedding present, you see."
"Ahh," said Crowley, expression clearing a little. "But given your choice you would rather not marry her."
"I'd rather not," Aziraphale agreed. "I'm sure she's a very nice person, but..."
"She's not what you'd most want in a life partner?"
"Quite so."
"And maybe what you want is something you can't have?"
Aziraphale nodded. "You understand very well."
"That's one thing I like about the river," said Crowley. "A lot of the social rules don't really apply here. People look the other way as long as you don't make trouble for them."
"Pity I can't stay here, then," said Aziraphale.
"You can stay here for a while," said Crowley. "It'll be a week or two before we get where we're going."
"That's not very much time," said Aziraphale, looking at him curiously.
"It's some time," said Crowley. "And look at it this way - a man is expected to kick up his heels a little before he settles down. This is your chance to do whatever you want to do for a while."
Aziraphale nodded slowly. "There is some truth in that." He looked to Crowley and said, "But what if I want requires a companion?"
"You've got me," said Crowley.
"Do I?"
"If you want me," Crowley affirmed. "Why not pretend for a few days? Pretend that instead of going home, you're running away with me. We're off to the frontier to start a new life together. Wouldn't that be more fun than whatever else you've got going on?"
Aziraphale began to smile. "It sounds lovely."
Crowley grinned back. "Well, I'm game if you are." He extended one graceful hand to stroke Aziraphale's cheek, and Aziraphale was certain he blushed all the way down to his toes. "Where shall we begin, hm?"
He looked at those golden eyes, shining brightly in the moonlight, and felt that this man might hypnotize him into doing almost anything. He was shocked to the core of his respectable soul to realize that he wanted to be persuaded.
"What have you got in mind?" he asked.
"Well," said Crowley, "It's a beautiful night. There's music. I thought we might dance."
"I'd love to," said Aziraphale sincerely.
Crowley flashed that dazzling grin again. He bowed gracefully and extended one hand.
"Then may I have the honor?" he asked.
Aziraphale beamed and placed his hand in Crowley's. "Why, sir, I'd be delighted."
And so, far above the glittering crowd on the deck, the two of them danced. The stars glowed overhead, the river shimmered below, and Aziraphale looked into his partner's laughing face and for just a moment, he believed it all. He could believe that he wasn't going home to a life of arranged respectability. He had fallen in love at first sight with a dashing stranger, and the two of them were going to run away together and start a new life full of adventure and romance.
It was what he'd always wanted, but just now he really thought it could happen.
It was late when the music ended. All the same, Crowley would not have minded if the dance had gone on until dawn, just to have the pleasure of holding that warm soft body against his just a little longer, to see those star-bright eyes gazing adoringly at him.
Instead, he said, "Shall I walk you to your room?"
Asa said, "Please do. To be honest, I'm not sure I remember where it is."
"We'll find it together. What's your room number?"
They located the room easily enough; Crowley knew every inch of this ship. Fell's room was one of the staterooms, reserved for people with real money. His family must have been rolling in it, to be able to afford a room like this for a two-week journey. Pity, that. If Asa had been a nobody, just some secretary or courier on a job from his employer, the two of them really might have been able to simply disappear and start a new life. Crowley didn't have to be tied to this boat; there was work everywhere for a seasoned bartender. But if Asa disappeared, no doubt someone somewhere would kick up a fuss.
Guess I'll just have to enjoy him while I've got him.
Asa seemed to feel the same way. He lingered at the door, looking dreamily at his companion.
"Thank you for taking a chance on me," he said. "It's been a lovely evening."
"We'll have more like it," Crowley promised.
"Mm," said Asa. "I'm still sorry to see it end."
Crowley knew how to take a hint.
"Well," he said, "I know one more thing we could do if you're up for it."
Asa nodded shyly. He moved a little closer and tipped his head back in the universal "kiss me" gesture.
So Crowley did as he was asked. Asa was clumsy at first, clearly inexperienced, but Crowley guided him gently until he caught on. With confidence came increasing enthusiasm, and Crowley found himself being drawn in deeper, getting lost in a maze of soft touches and eager caresses, of warm breath on his skin and fingers tangling in his hair and eager moans of pleasure...
When they pulled back again, Asa's hair had become disheveled and his bowtie had come askew. A couple of his shirt buttons had come undone somehow. His expression made it clear that he didn't mind this one bit.
"Oh, that was lovely," he said. Shyly, he added, "That was my first time."
"Was it? Well, you're a natural," said Crowley.
Asa glowed with pleasure. "But maybe I could still do with some practice?"
Crowley grinned. "No such thing as too much practice."
"Then come in where we can practice in comfort," said Asa, and tugged him inside.
Crowley went willingly and shut the door firmly behind himself.
I really chose right when I chose him, he thought. Two weeks are going to feel like nothing...
Crowley returned to his room whistling. He found his bunkmate still there, shaving in front of the tiny mirror. He glanced up when he saw Crowley's reflection in the glass.
"Where you been?" he asked. "You never slept in your bed last night."
"That's for me to know and you to wonder," said Crowley cheerfully.
The man raised his eyebrows. "You got a woman on your string, then?"
"What I have," said Crowley, "is an angel."
"Wish I had your talent," his roommate said, and went back to shaving. "What have you got that I haven't got?"
Very specific tastes, Crowley thought, but knew better than to say aloud. The two of them might be bunking together for the duration of this journey, but that didn't mean that he was going to let the man know his innermost secrets. There were men who stayed faithful to the same boat until they were too old to work anymore, but this man wasn't one of them. When they got to their destination, he would very likely move on to some other job, or more likely, go find somewhere to blow his paycheck. Either way, Crowley never expected to see him again.
Pity I have to say the same about Asa...
He allowed his mind to linger on the details of the previous night. It had transpired that Asa had wanted a considerable amount of practice, and Crowley, generous soul that he was, had obliged him in every way possible. Not that they'd gone all that far, really. They'd kissed a good deal, cuddled a bit, done some exploratory petting, and finally fallen asleep in each other's arms. It had still been the most enjoyable thing he'd done in ages. Anyway, falling asleep in the arms of an angel like Asa fell in the wide, soft bed of a luxury stateroom was a considerable improvement of sleeping in his hard little bunk listening to his roommate snore. He was looking forward to doing more of it.
Pity it can't last...
Oh, well. There had been others before Asa Fell, and no doubt there would be others after. But damn it all, it got lonely. A man could get ground down, having to say goodbye again and again because no one could ever stay. Anyway, he couldn't fight the feeling that there was something a bit special about Asa. He had a sweetness and a warmth to him that got under Crowley's skin.
Just enjoy it while you've got it.
So he combed his hair and changed into fresher clothes, and generally made himself ready to start the day.
Since few people wanted a bartender this early in the morning, he was free to take breakfast at his leisure. He loitered near the entrance to the dining room, watching the sun rise over the river, until he saw Asa approaching. He'd changed into fresh clothes as well, and looked if anything even more charming than he had yesterday. Perhaps it was because yesterday he had been down in the mouth over his impending wedding, whereas today he was all sunshine and smiles.
"Good morning, Mr. Fell!" Crowley called out.
"Why, good morning, Mr. Crowley. How very pleasant to see you again," said Asa. "Thank you so much for the tour of the boat last night. It was marvelously educational."
"Always pleased to be of service," said Crowley. "I was just about to get my breakfast. Care to continue our conversation over ham and eggs?"
"I can't think of anything I'd like more," Asa agreed.
And indeed, while he was clearly enjoying chatting with Crowley, he also applied himself with enthusiasm to his food. Crowley appreciated that. He liked to see a man who enjoyed his meals; it always gave him the sense that he was in the presence of someone who might well have an appetite for other pleasures as well.
"So tell me something about yourself," said Asa. "Have you worked on this boat very long?"
"Since the day she set sail," said Crowley. "Before that, I was a barback in a place called the Bitten Apple. I like this better. You get a better class of people here, and I like the change in scenery."
"You must have seen a great deal of life," said Asa enviously.
"I reckon I've seen more than most people."
"Tell me about it."
So while they dawdled over their coffee, Crowley talked about the places he'd been and the things he'd seen, about gamblers and storms and engine fires and the silly things people had done when drunk. Asa had talked about some of the interesting people he'd met. He had not traveled widely himself, but his family had interests all over the world, and many people from far-flung places had come to visit and talk business. Asa, it transpired, could read and write in several languages, and knew things about the history and culture of places Crowley barely knew existed. He also had a lively sense of humor, and made Crowley laugh with his imitations of haughty society ladies and bombastic politicians.
And somewhere in the midst of all this, Crowley found himself thinking, This has to be the last time. He was sick of getting his heart broken again and again. Just this once, he wanted to love someone and go on loving them. He thought that with this man, he could do it. Anyway, he wanted to try.
Wherever he goes, I want to go too. I think this may end up being my last trip down the river...
The days fell into a comfortable routine. Each day, Aziraphale woke up next to Crowley, and they would exchange a few good-morning kisses, perhaps make love if the mood was upon them, and then go their separate ways. They'd meet again in the dining room and chat over breakfast. If Crowley wasn't on duty, they would stroll around on deck to watch the scenery roll by, or perhaps go in and play cards or dice if the weather was uncooperative. When Crowley was working, Aziraphale would find a quiet place to sit and read for a while, and then perhaps drop by the bar for a few drinks and as much conversation as Crowley had time for. On nights when Crowley wasn't working the late shift, they would go to the lounge together to watch whatever entertainment was on that night, or just go up to the roof again to dance or watch the stars. They always finished back in Aziraphale's stateroom, where they could enjoy each other's company in more intimate ways until they fell asleep in each other's arms. It was a lovely way to live, the happiest days of Aziraphale's life, and more and more he found himself wishing it never had to end.
And so it came as a disappointment when Crowley came to him one morning and said, "Sorry, Asa, but I don't think I'm going to be able to see much of you today."
"Is something wrong?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley made an expression of consternation. "One of the guys from the kitchen tried to brew his own hooch in his room. God only knows what he put in the stuff, but he shared around the results and everyone who tried it is sick as a dog. That's half the kitchen staff and most of the waiters. I have to throw myself into the breach. I can't cook, but I can at least carry a plate. Hell if I know what's going to be on it, though."
Asa frowned a little. "So you need competent chefs?"
"Right now I think we'd take anyone who knows how to boil a potato."
"Then lead me to the kitchen, please." He was already shedding his fine jacket and rolling up his shirtsleeves. He took off his tie and tucked it in his pocket.
Crowley looked at him in surprise. "You cook?"
"Of course I do." Aziraphale smiled. "You know me, I like to eat. I always used to hang around the kitchens as a boy, so the cooks always put me to work. I never outgrew the habit. I've always thought it was nice to be able to make whatever I want whenever I want it. Trust me, I can peel potatoes with the best of them."
Crowley continued to stare at him a moment longer. Then he shrugged.
"Well, if you're volunteering, I don't think anybody is going to say no," he said.
Aziraphale nodded and said, "Let me see what I can do."
They found the kitchen in chaos. It seemed that the head chef had been among those who had sampled the suspect brew, and the only people left on staff were people who were used to being told what to do. There was a lot of shouting and rushing about, but no actual work getting done. Aziraphale took the scene in at a glance and with a certain amount of satisfaction.
"Everyone settle down!" he ordered.
It wasn't a very loud command, but he had pitched it with the proper note of quiet authority. Everyone in the room froze and looked at him expectantly.
"Right," he said. He took an apron down from a nearby hook and began fastening it around his waist. "There's no time to panic. People are waiting for breakfast, so let's get a move on! You - you know how to fry an egg, don't you? We have bacon available? Then why aren't you cooking it? Get a move on! Does anyone here know how to make griddle cakes? Fine, good, hop to it. Everyone else, why are you standing around doing nothing? We need to start prepping for lunch, don't we? Does anyone know what the chef had planned?"
Someone volunteered that there were some chickens that needed using up while they were still fresh.
"Good, let's have those, then," said Aziraphale. "Someone start breaking them down. We'll fry the wings and legs, and bake the breasts with some kind of sauce. Whatever's leftover can go into a pot for soup. What kind of vegetables have we got handy? Potatoes, onions, carrots, anything like that? Somebody start peeling them - I'll figure out what to do with them later. Crowley?"
Crowley snapped to attention. "Yeah?"
"Do the other guests know what's going on?"
He shook his head. "Thought it might put them off their feed, so we haven’t said anything."
"Good," said Aziraphale. "Then tell them there's been a malfunction in the kitchen and meal service might be slightly delayed, but we're doing everything we can. If anyone has any complaints or special requests, tell them you'll relay their comments to the head chef. Which at the moment is me. I'll whip them up a fancy fruit plate or something. They'll probably simmer down if they feel like they're getting preferential treatment."
"Got it," he said, and sprinted off to spread the word.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Aziraphale chopped, stirred, peeled, barked orders, put things into ovens and took them out again. People came in, grabbed plates, went out, and came back with the dishes emptied. Crowley breezed through several times offering encouraging comments like, "Table twelve said the chicken was fantastic," or "Table three wants to know if they can have seconds." The encouragement helped him keep going amid all the chaos.
At last, sometime just after the lunch rush let up, the head chef returned, looking a bit pale and shaky but insisting that he was ready to take up his work again. Aziraphale filled him in on what had been done and what still needed doing, and then gratefully retreated to his bunk to clean himself up.
He met Crowley in the dining room. Before Aziraphale even had a chance to order, Crowley set a heaping plate in front of him.
"Knew you'd be hungry," he said. "You never got any breakfast."
"What a dear you are," said Aziraphale gratefully. "I'm absolutely famished." He grabbed a fork and tucked in.
I am a good cook, it must be said...
Crowley slid into the seat next to him. "Hey, you were amazing back there, you know that? Absolutely incredible, the way you just walked in and took charge like that."
Aziraphale smiled. "It was actually kind of fun."
"After this, I expect they'd let you help again any time you wanted to."
"Oh, I don't know if I could do that," said Aziraphale. "I can't imagine what my family would do if they heard I'd been working as a cook on a steamboat like a common laborer."
"They don't have to find out," said Crowley. "Remember, you're running away with me, right? What do you say we go out west and open up a saloon or a hotel or something? I'll tend bar and you'll oversee the kitchen. It'll be good."
Aziraphale smiled. "I'd like that a lot."
"Then that's what we'll do," said Crowley.
"I'll look forward to it," said Aziraphale.
But I don't want it just for pretend, Aziraphale thought. I want it to be real. He could see it so vividly: Crowley behind the bar, pouring drinks and chatting with the guests, himself welcoming new arrivals and pulling shifts in the kitchen, and at night the two of them would retreat to their private room to share a bottle of something and chat about their day...
I don't know if I can go home after this. For the first time in his life, he had found someone who was willing to accept him exactly the way he was, someone who loved the real him and not the carefully cultivated facade his family had trained him into. How could he ever go back to his old artificial existence when he'd had a taste of freedom?
I just don't know how to escape...
The boat had stopped.
Crowley always looked forward to this part of the journey. It was routine, at this point, for the Jewel to dock in this city for a day or so to take on fuel, supplies, and cargo. He would have a chance to go ashore for a while and look at a few places that weren't aboard the boat. Today he was particularly looking forward to it, because it meant a chance to ask Asa on a proper date. He had learned through their conversations that Asa was a man of culture, someone who enjoyed the theater and the symphony. This city was large enough to have a moderately well-regarded playhouse, and Crowley wanted to show off a bit.
"What do you say we go ashore for a while?" he asked. The two of them had been leaning on a railing together, watching things being loaded and unloaded.
"Can we do that?" Asa asked.
"No reason why not," said Crowley. "The boat's not moving again until tomorrow morning. As long as we're back aboard before they pull up the gangplank, we can go out and have some fun. We can have dinner at a good restaurant, maybe go see a show somewhere."
"Oh, I'd love that!" said Asa, looking at him so adoringly that Crowley might have melted on the spot.
Definitely worth bribing someone to take my shift tonight.
"Well, I won a bit at the card table the other night," he said casually, "so I can afford to show you a good time. Put on your best, and I'll meet you at the top of the gangplank."
If they had not been in public, he was sure Asa would have kissed him. As it was, he took Crowley's hand in both of his for a moment, beaming at him and saying, "I'll be there with bells on."
Then he hurried off, possibly to find some bells. Crowley strolled back to his cabin at a more leisurely pace, thinking of good things to come.
A few minutes later, he was loitering near the gangplank, dressed in his sharpest "going into town" clothes and trying not to pace the floor with impatience. He brightened when he finally saw Asa coming his way. He, too, had changed clothes, and was now wearing a smart gray suit with a teal green shirt that brought out the blue tints in his eyes and emphasized the fairness of his hair. Crowley whistled appreciatively.
"Say, who's this well-dressed gentleman?" he said.
Asa blushed and said, "Oh, you charmer. You're looking very nice, I must say."
"And you're the handsomest man on the river," Crowley assured him. "Come on, let's go have some fun."
They left the boat behind and ventured into town. Crowley was pleased with the results of his idea; Asa was looking at his surroundings as though he'd never seen a city before, and was clearly delighted with everything he was seeing. He admired local landmarks and peered into shop windows with all the excitement of a child on his first outing.
He is just ridiculously cute, Crowley thought, watching him gaze avidly into a bookshop.
"We have some time to shop," he said generously. "Just don't buy more than you can carry, all right? We have other stops to make."
Asa laughed. "Oh, dear, I'm afraid you've spotted one of my weaknesses." He was already making his way into the shop, with Crowley trailing after him. "I'm afraid if I'm left unsupervised, I'll spend all my money on books."
"I noticed that fancy one you have in your room," said Crowley. "What is that, a souvenir from up north?"
"Something like that," said Asa vaguely. He was already scanning the stacks with a practiced eye. "Oh, dear, would you look at all this? How am I ever going to choose? Crowley, if I try to buy more than five of these, I need to you to knock some sense into me."
"I'll try, but no promises," said Crowley, grinning.
In the end, they walked away with eight books, wrapped up in two paper bundles. They each carried one tucked under an arm, and Crowley kept his free arm slung casually over Asa's shoulders as he guided him through the busy streets. He didn't mind having to carry part of the load. It was worth it to him just to see his companion looking so happy.
And the evening turned out to be a perfect one. Crowley treated them both to dinner at the dining room of the grand hotel, an extravagance that he normally wouldn't have dreamed of. In fact, he would have to tighten his belt a little until he got his next pay packet, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Asa was clearly reveling in the food, the wine, and the company. For a little while Crowley could almost make himself believe that he lived in a better world, where the two of them could be together openly. It was nice to pretend that they were a happy couple celebrating their honeymoon, rather than two people living on borrowed time.
After the meal, they went to the theater.
"Let me buy the tickets," said Asa. "You paid for dinner, so it's only fair."
Crowley had been going to pay for the tickets, but if Asa was offering he wasn't going to fight about it - especially since it transpired that there was still one private box free that evening, and he only could have managed the cheap seats. But to sit in a private box like the rich people, with a curtain they could pull around themselves for privacy... well, that really was living as far as he was concerned. He never could remember afterwards what the plot of the show was, only that he and Asa held hands the whole time and stole kisses during the scene changes, and as for the intermission, well...
I could really get to like the theater.
It was quite late when they started back to the boat. They walked slowly, relaxed and happy and in no mood to let the magic end.
"It's been the most beautiful evening," said Asa after a while. "Thank you so much for inviting me. I'll remember this night for the rest of my life."
"So will I," said Crowley honestly. He wrestled with himself for a while before saying, "You know, we could stay here."
Asa stared at him. "What?"
"We could go back to the boat and grab our stuff and then just leave," he said, talking fast so he could finish before he lost his nerve. "A good bartender can get a job anywhere, and I'm sure you could get a place as a cook or in the bookshop or wherever you wanted. It would be rough for a while but we could make it work. You don't have to go back home. You could just disappear."
"Oh, Crowley..." said Asa. He looked like his heart was breaking.
"We really could," said Crowley. "It wouldn't be the first time I've started over. I know how it's done. I can take care of you until you find your feet. You could change your name, start a new life. We could be together."
For a few long seconds, Asa only stood there, so still he might have turned to stone.
At last, he said, "Crowley, can I trust you with a secret?"
"Of course. You can tell me anything."
"All right," said Asa. "My name isn't really Asa Fell. I'm traveling under an assumed name to avoid attracting attention. My real name is Aziraphale D'Angelo."
Crowley frowned. "D'Angelo... why do I feel like I've seen that name recently?"
"Probably because it's stamped into most of the plates and flatware on the boat," said Asa, or Aziraphale, or whoever he was. "My elder half-brother is Gabriel D'Angelo, and he owns the D'Angelo pewter works."
"...Oh," said Crowley. "That, uh... that makes a difference."
It meant Aziraphale's family wasn't just well-off, they were fantastically wealthy. The D'Angelos had made a fortune on fine pewter, then branched out into bronze fittings, and had recently gotten into silver. Their fortunes had multiplied several times over since Gabriel had taken the helm, and he was now reckoned to be one of the most powerful men east of the Mississippi.
"Right," said Aziraphale. "I can't just disappear. If I don't get back on that boat, there will be a manhunt. My picture will be in every paper in the country. Rewards will be offered. Very likely you'd be arrested for kidnapping and who knows what else, and both our lives would be ruined." He sighed deeply. "Crowley, I would give anything to run away with you, I truly would. I can't." He smiled a faltering smile. "I can only... try to be grateful that I had this chance to meet the love of my life and to be loved by him."
Crowley touched his hand to Aziraphale's face. "I really do love you. You know that, right?"
Aziraphale's smile became a little more real. "This isn't just pretend anymore, is it?"
"Never was," said Crowley.
He pulled Aziraphale into a dark alley, hiding the two of them in the deepest shadows he could find. There, he pushed Aziraphale against a wall and kissed him, and if he felt dampness and tasted salt on his lips, he didn't choose to mention it.
The walked back to the boat in silence. Everything there was to say had already been said. But when they got back to the stateroom, they held each other as close as they could, and made love again and again until they were both aching and exhausted, because parting even an inch from each other had become unbearable.
And when Crowley fell asleep in the small hours of the morning, his last waking thought was, There has to be a way...
It was two days later when Aziraphale heard someone pounding on his door. He set his book aside and went to see what they wanted.
I would almost welcome a problem right now, he thought. At least I might be able to do something about it.
He and Crowley were continuing to spend time together as usual, but something in the air had changed. Reality had intruded into their fantasy world, and while they were doing their best to ignore it, things couldn't be quite the same as they had been. More and more, Aziraphale felt he could see the shadow of his home looming over him in the distance. He wasn't sure how he was going to cope with arriving there and trying to pretend that everything was normal.
But at least whatever was going on now was a distraction. He flung open the door and found Crowley there, looking shaken.
"Grab anything you can't live without and get ready to go," he said.
"Wait, what?" Aziraphale said.
"There's a fire in the cargo hold," said Crowley. "They're trying to get it under control but it looks bad. We need to get off this boat before it sinks."
"Right," said Aziraphale. "Half a moment and I’ll be right with you."
Crowley nodded. "I've got to warn as many people as I can, but I'll meet you on deck, right where we met that first night."
He hurried away. Aziraphale grabbed his bag, shoved some clothes into it, then took the book from its resting place and laid it carefully on top. After a brief pause, he changed his mind, took most of the clothes out, and put the books he'd bought when he'd been out with Crowley in their place. After all, he could always get more clothes from somewhere, but he hadn't finished reading these books yet and who knew where he'd find another copy. He checked that he still had his wallet and then headed for the deck.
It was, of course, chaos. Despite the best efforts of the crew, people were panicking and running about and generally getting in each other's way. A few people had actually thrown themselves over the sides and were trying to swim for shore. The stewards were trying to load people onto life rafts, but they were having difficulty managing the crush of people.
Aziraphale fought his way to the back of the boat and found Crowley waiting for him near the gate to the locked machinery.
"Quick, in here," he said. "I have an idea."
Aziraphale followed him. The pair scampered up the ladder to the roof, and there Aziraphale paused to catch his breath. From up there, he could easily see the plume of smoke rising from somewhere deeper inside the ship. Flames were already leaping through some of the windows and licking at the sides.
I don't think they're going to save her, he thought, with a pang of regret. After all, she had been a very nice boat. He'd had some of the best times of his life there, and he would always remember it fondly.
Assuming, of course, that he didn't go down with the ship.
"So what are we doing up here?" he asked.
"The captain is trying to get the boat as close to shore as possible, to give the passengers a chance at getting back to land," said Crowley. "I know this stretch of river pretty well, and some of the trees here lean far over the bank. Instead of trying to squeeze onto a life raft, we're going to try to catch hold of a branch and climb to shore.”
Aziraphale looked nervous. "I don't know... I'm not very athletic..."
"Don't worry. I'll help you."
Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He looked at the burning boat and calculated his odds of swimming to shore in the cold, murky water. He looked at the people still fighting for places on the lifeboats.
"I'll give it a try, then," he said.
He took off his bow tie and used it to tie the handle of his bag to his belt so he'd have both hands free. Then he glanced at Crowley, waiting for his cue.
"All right," said Crowley. "See that big tree up ahead? We'll aim for that one. Jump when I tell you to and hold tight, because you might not get another chance."
Aziraphale nodded.
Here goes nothing...
The tree hove into reach. Crowley jumped, nimble as a cat, and Aziraphale jumped half a second after him. He gripped the branch as tightly as he could, feet swinging wildly beneath him.
"Don't look down!" Crowley shouted.
"I'm not!" Aziraphale shouted back, focusing desperately on the branch. It was a thick sturdy one, but that only made it harder to grip. If only he could swing a leg up somehow... He could feel his hands start to slip.
"I can't hold on!" he wailed.
"You have to!"
Aziraphale struggled to get a better grip. One hand slipped and he lurched sideways, swinging from one single hand. He gave a whimper of fear and looked down. The boat had already drifted onward, and now there was nothing beneath him but swirling black water. He felt sure that if he fell in, he would never get out again. He reached frantically, but the branch remained just out of his grasp.
And then Crowley caught him by the wrist and forcefully jerked his arm upwards until he could catch hold of something. Driven by frantic energy, Aziraphale managed to wrench himself upwards, arching his body like a fish on a line, until he managed to hook one ankle over the branch. The other leg followed more easily, and he clung to his arboreal perch as if it were the one safe thing in the world.
"Good job," said Crowley encouragingly. "Now, just follow me!"
The two of them scrambled their way to solid ground. Crowley slid out of the tree first, then reached up to help Aziraphale clamber down after him. Aziraphale resisted the urge to kneel down and kiss the earth. Anyway, kissing Crowley was far more pleasant. The two of them stood there for a while, holding on to each other and breathing hard.
"So now what happens?" he asked at last.
"I guess we start walking," said Crowley. "There's a town about five miles downriver. We can check in there and let someone know we made it out okay."
"Ah," said Aziraphale. The words "made it out okay" had sparked a train of thought. "Is that a requirement, do you think?"
"Well, if we don't, they'll all think we... Oh!" said Crowley, and began to grin. “You’re thinking it might be better if we went down with the ship?”
Aziraphale smiled and nodded. "Terribly tragic, of course, but my family never liked me much anyway. I expect they'll cope."
"Is that really what you want to do, though?" Crowley asked. "I mean, I love you like crazy, but is that enough? You're used to a comfortable life, and I won't be able to keep you in luxury no matter what I do."
"Oh, I think we'll manage well enough," said Aziraphale. "In fact, I think we'll do just what we were planning on doing: travel until we find a city or good-sized town that we like, and we open a restaurant or a hotel or something. You'll tend bar, I'll cook, and at the end of the day we'll go back to our room and drink a toast to our success."
"Sounds like fun to me," said Crowley, "but you know, you need money for something like that, and I'm a bit skint just now. And while I believe you may have money, I'm not sure you brought enough to buy a whole building.
"Well, let's find out, shall we?" said Aziraphale.
He untied his bag from his belt and opened it up. He removed the elaborately bound book and rested it almost reverently on a handy fallen log. Crowley peered at it with interest.
"Well, it's fancy enough, anyway," he said. "Is it very valuable?"
"The book? Not in the least," said Aziraphale. "But it is very convenient." He tapped its cover with his knuckles. "And hollow."
"Oh!" said Crowley.
"Right," said Aziraphale. "I told you, didn't I, that I'd gone up north to buy a wedding present for my fiancee? Well, this is it." He beamed. "And with all due respect to the young lady, I believe I will give it to the person I intend to share my life with."
As he spoke, his fingers pressed two of the golden swirls that adorned the cover. They sank inwards with the softest possible click, and the cover flipped open.
And in a nest of padded velvet, a constellation of diamond and sapphire jewelry glittered in the moonlight. Crowley gaped. Aziraphale beamed.
"What do you say, my darling?" he asked, dropping down on one knee. "Will you be mine?"
Crowley was speechless a moment longer. Then he began to laugh.
"Yes!" he said. "Absolutely yes."
And then he was down on his knees too, and the two of them were hugging and kissing and laughing and crying, all in one confused tangle, and Aziraphale knew then that it was all really going to be all right. He was free, he was with the man he loved, and everything else would work itself out.
"Hey, we'd better keep it down," said Crowley at last. "They'll be sending search parties soon to look for survivors. We don't want to get caught."
"Right," said Aziraphale. He closed the book again and put it safely back into his bag. "Which way?"
"We head for town, I think," said Crowley. "We check into a hotel under assumed names, and then tomorrow we can catch another boat going upriver. And after that..."
"We'll make it up as we go along," said Aziraphale.
Crowley grinned. "Right. Come on, Asa. Let's go find a place to stay the night."
Aziraphale nodded. Then he thought, That's right, I'm not Aziraphale D'Angelo any longer. That's fine - I don't think I'll miss him. Asa Fell had a lot more fun. I think I shall enjoy being him...
And the best thing about being Asa Fell was that where he went, Anthony Crowley was going to go with him. That was an encouraging thought. Smiling, Asa hoisted his bag and set off into the night.
In the end, nearly all the passengers and crew aboard the Jewel survived the fire. The only two people who were never found were a passenger, one Aziraphale D'Angelo, and a member of the crew, a bartender named Anthony Crowley. After an extensive search, they were eventually declared dead, and the world moved on.
And a few weeks later, somewhere further upriver, two men wandered into a riverside town and said to each other, "Yes, this will do." It was a large and lively town, with a theater and a good bookshop and a number of other amenities. Soon it had one more thing: a fine hotel, right near the water, where the guests could watch the majestic paddle steamers drift by. The bartender was a lean, red-haired man who kept a lid on troublemakers and mixed an excellent drink. The soul of the building, though, was a plump, cheerful man called Mr. Fell who welcomed every guest like an old friend and kept the rooms in perfect order. Every visitor to the hotel hoped to be there on the nights he worked the kitchen, because everyone agreed that when Mr. Fell was behind the stove, you couldn't get a better meal anywhere. In fact, the whole place ran like clockwork and felt like home. The two proprietors were clearly happy in their work, and their radiant contentment warmed the whole building.
And that was why, for many years afterwards, anyone who stayed in that city would tell their friends, "You must try to get a room at the Jewel of the River."