London bookshop owner and foodie Aziraphale is heartbroken when his boyfriend leaves him before their planned romantic getaway to Amsterdam for Halloween. Crowley and his fellow chocolatiers are in the midst of a competition to create the most roman...
Crowley pipes ganache into the chocolate molds as Aziraphale puts a glass jar of flavoring back where it belongs, when he sees an old photograph.
“Is that the shop when it first opened?”
Crowley pauses piping long enough to look up and nod, explaining, “Indeed. I’ve run this place for almost 200 years. I opened the world’s first chocolaterie.”
But then Aziraphale notices something, “Wait a moment. That can’t be right. The first chocolaterie opened in Paris, not Amsterdam. And not only did it not sell real chocolate, chocolate didn’t become what it is today until 1879.”
The demon only tilts his head, “Nothing gets past you, does it, angel?”
The angel in question is left even more confused, “But...what are you doing here of all places? Amsterdam is wonderful, but...”
“But it’s not Paris. I know.” The demon rolls his eyes. “No one knows that better than me. Unfortunately I lost all rights to have a shop in Paris a long time ago, fair and square.”
Aziraphale gasps softly, “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.”
Crowley shrugs it off, “You know, I kept the shop exactly the same, every time I relocated.”
Aziraphale is fascinated, looking around the kitchen with new eyes, “Really?”
Crowley notes with a laugh, “Damn near took me an entire year before I remembered every last detail, down to the color wallpaper. Used to joke that my sweets sold faster than I could throw up the drywall.”
Aziraphale notes, “It sounds to me, my dear, that this shop has claimed your entire heart.”
The demon tries to joke, “Aw, come on. No it hasn’t. You should see my garden. I’d never sell my chocolates without their help.”
The angel probes subtly, “Crowley, really. I think you care more about humanity than you let on.”
But before, where the demon would’ve snapped at him, or even walked away to avoid the topic, now Crowley looks at him with complete sincerity, and admits, “Well someone should, don’t you think?”
It’s as close to an admission he’s capable of giving, and the angel knows it, so he’s not going to push for more.
Which is why Aziraphale isn’t prepared when Crowley adds, “I’ve always admired how humans aren’t scared to go after what they want, even at the cost of everything. They’re nothing, if not resilient.” Aziraphale adds one last thought, “But that resiliency is how we’ve come to be here to be a part of it.”, and the demon nods in agreement, as he finishes piping the ganache, covering the mold with chocolate, and separating them from the mold.
Aziraphale laughs, “They’re like precious gems.”
The demon holds one up, explaining, “This right here is my favorite chocolate. It’s the first chocolate ever sold in my shop, that goes all the way back to the Prince Albert Exposition in London.”
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Aziraphale takes the one offered, telling Crowley, “My dear, one of these days I am going to prove just how lucky you are to have your own shop like this.”
Crowley reminds him, “But what about you?”
Aziraphale shakes his head, “I could never abandon my bookshop.”
The demon laughs, “No, I mean converting your shop to a dessert cafe.”
The angel replies, “Some dreams are meant to stay that way.”
Crowley tries to turn Aziraphale’s own words against him, “So you don’t practice what you preach?”
Aziraphale, for once, just looks at the chocolate in his hand, and says nothing.
“You seem to have grown very fond of Mr. Crowley.” Esther comments to the angel as they walk down the street together.
Aziraphale is quick to play it off, “Of course I have. How could I not, when I spend almost every waking moment with him?”
Esther pushes, suspecting there’s more, “That’s not all that’s happening, is it? Just working and proximity?”
Aziraphale chuckles at that, “That’s all I’m allowing to happen. He’s here. I’m there.”
Esther gives him that one, “Very true. I won’t pretend that’s not something to consider.”, but then stands in front of the angel to stop him. “But matters of the heart make it all worthwhile, don’t they?”
The angel outright laughs, “ Matters of the heart? Surely you’re not suggesting I have feelings for...” then trails off, as Esther just keeps giving him a knowing look, which Aziraphale just has to shut down, “Absolutely not!”
Esther shrugs, “Alright. You’re not.”
Aziraphale still says, feeling defensive, “I think I’d know if I had those kind of feelings for anyone, much less Mr. Crowley.”
Esther agrees, “Oh of course you would.”, then moves back next to Aziraphale as they keep walking down the street.
Or they would’ve had they not stopped close to the Bubbles and Wine bar, and Esther spots Theo in the window.
Quickly, she turns to Aziraphale again, telling him as she points behind her,
“The market’s down that way. Why did I lead you down this way in the first place?” , and tries to turn around.
But the angel stops her before she can, claiming, “Oh, but it’s such a nice day out. Why don’t we stop here for a drink?”, and dragging her towards the bar, pointing.
Trapped, Esther blushes as she gives an awkward wave, and Theo waves back, before whining, “Ezra...”
Aziraphale is the look of complete innocence as he asks, “What’s the matter? Didn’t you say we’re running low on champagne anyway?”, then gestures, “Please. After you.”
After another moment, Esther nods, “Alright.”, and walks towards the bar by herself, and the man in the window comes out to greet her.
Aziraphale won’t lie. Even at the thought of not having anyone for himself, as he watches the two converse, he refuses to feel anything but happy for his new friend.
Crowley’s just putting some jars away when he sees the old photo of his shop back in Paris, which makes him pause.
No...I couldn’t. Could I?
But then he’s walking over to his notebook, and after looking around the shop, picks up a pencil, and scribbles furiously.
