Chapter Text
Cool Dad was at the school gate again. Clambering out of his ridiculous sports car like a great big spider, all black denim and designer sunglasses. What a prat. He made his way towards the entrance, followed by his equally lanky son. All the mums' eyes were on him. Which was fine. At least they weren't staring at Aziraphale for a change. Cool Dad high-fived his son goodbye, because of course he did, then sauntered back to his car. Making it look so bloody easy.
Aziraphale sighed and looked around to find Pepper skulking along a few paces behind. It was Friday. Finally. The end of her first week at Eastgate Secondary. The school gate was coming closer, guarded by a tired-looking teacher with a clipboard. A line of cars had pulled up all along the narrow road. Azirphale appeared to be the only adult walking their charge to school. He nodded to the lollipop lady, who ignored him, and finally reached the gate.
‘Right then,’ he said, an unconvincing grin plastered to his face. Pepper didn’t even see it, with her head bowed and eyes to the ground. ‘Have a wonderful day, my dear. I'll pick you up at three.’
Without a word of goodbye or a backwards glance, she walked on towards the entrance, glowering at the teacher with the clipboard. How much would it cost her to be polite for a change? It wasn’t like Aziraphale was there by choice. As soon as he thought it, a wave of guilt washed over him. It wasn’t her fault. He wasn’t being fair. But then, the world hadn’t been fair to him either.
He turned around and walked back along the pavement, avoiding the mums’ curious looks at him. They could gossip however much they pleased. He wasn’t here to make friends. Not that he hadn’t tried, earlier in the week. Said hello to a harmless looking woman in a puffer jacket and a sleek bun. She’d glared at him as if he’d announced an intention to abduct all three of her children.
Ah well. There were more pressing matters at hand today. He continued past the row of parked cars. Thirty minutes’ walk into town from here. He’d managed to take the day off work, after badgering Gabriel about it for two weeks straight. Not great for the state of his bank account, but the to-do list tucked away in his pocket needed to be dealt with while Pepper was at school.
He reached the street corner and looked up to cross. A sleek black two-seater stopped right in front of him. The window wound down, revealing a pair of sunglasses.
‘Hiya. Want a lift anywhere?’
Cool Dad pointed at the empty passenger seat.
‘Um,’ Aziraphale said. Fantastic. Very articulate. Cool Dad leaned across the gear stick and pushed the passenger door open, making the decision for him. Automatically, Aziraphale got in the car. He regretted it almost immediately. Sitting this close to him, he noticed just how attractive the man was. Sharp cheekbones, long nose, wavy hair the colour of rust. Hot Dad as well as Cool Dad.
‘So?’ he said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Where d’you need to go?’
Aziraphale tore his gaze away from the man and looked straight ahead onto the road.
‘Oh, yes. Into town, if that’s all right. The Asda car park, if you wouldn’t mind. Thank you so much, I really do appreciate it.’
Before he’d finished talking, the car accelerated. There was the unpleasant swoop of inertia in Aziraphale’s stomach. He dug his fingers into the expensive leather of the seat. The car glid along the road almost noiselessly.
‘You’re new here,’ said Cool Dad, incomprehensibly keen on making small talk. ‘Been seeing you all this week. Not trying to be creepy or anything, but you’re the only other bloke at the gate.’
‘Yes, I did notice that. You, me, and a hundred mums. Pepper’s new at the school. She’s in Year 7.’
Cool Dad whistled.
‘Your daughter’s the notorious Pepper Fell?’
‘Actually, she’s not my— wait, why notorious?’
He took a hand off the steering wheel to scratch his neck. His nails left faint red streaks along his jawline. Aziraphale forced his eyes back on the road. They had nearly reached the centre now.
‘Er, I probably shouldn’t tell on her if she’s not talked to you about it, but… yeah. You probably want to know what she’s been up to. It’s actually hilarious.’
The fact that five days into her new school career she was already known as the ‘notorious Pepper Fell’ was worrying indeed. For heaven’s sake. He was so out of his depth.
Cool Dad glanced sideways at him. ‘You free at all this morning? You look like you could do with a strong coffee and I’ve got the morning off, so...’
With compliments to my under-eye circles, thought Aziraphale. The to-do list was burning a hole in his pocket. Taking the day off had cost him already. He needed to get everything done today or he’d have to take another holiday next week, and Gabriel would hate that. He looked at Cool Dad next to him, shaded eyes flitting back and forth between the passenger seat and the road ahead. A small smile played around his lips. A smile or a smirk, hard to tell. And still, he’d been the only person so far this week to show him any kindness. To offer help. A ride and a coffee. And damn, Aziraphale deserved to sit in a café opposite a good-looking man after the week he’d had.
‘Yes,’ he said, stomach swooping again. Probably from the rather abrupt halt at the traffic light. ‘I’m free.’
They parked up outside the town centre and made their way over to Costa on the high street. At least it wasn’t expensive. He’d get a small tea and make it last. But when they got to the front of the queue, Cool Dad insisted on paying for both their drinks.
‘Got to fill up the stamp card or I’ll never get my free mocha,’ he said, flashing the barista a dazzling smile.
At the table, he took his sunglasses off. His eyes were a golden shade of hazel, and Aziraphale noticed just how young he actually was. Same age as himself, if he were to guess. Mid-twenties. Definitely too young to have a son in secondary school. But perhaps he just had extremely good genes and an immaculate skin-care routine. Or perhaps they were more alike than Aziraphale could hope for.
There was a bit of a silence as he stirred a sachet of sugar into his tea. When he looked up, Cool Dad was staring at him across the table. He shook his head slightly and picked up his own mug of black coffee.
‘Sorry, haven’t even introduced myself. Bet you think I’m a proper creep. I’m Crowley. Adam’s dad. He’s also in Year 7.’
He seemed oddly nervous.
‘Aziraphale. I don’t think you’re creepy.’ Well. He did, a little bit. Who offered a lift and a drink to a complete stranger? But he was so starved for company, he didn’t even care. ‘You’re the only one of the parents who’s actually spoken to me, you know. Tried to introduce myself on Monday, but the mums, um. They’re a bit scary, aren’t they?’
Crowley’s chuckled.
‘Of course. Absolutely terrifying.’
Aziraphale was nearly certain he was taking the piss.
‘Are we really the only men dropping kids off at school?’
‘Yup. Occasionally some dad will show up if the wife’s too sick in bed or something. You’ll know when it happens ‘cause they make a bloody song and dance of it. But you and me, we’re the only regulars. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the gawking. Single dad, I presume?’
Aziraphale sighed. ‘It’s complicated.’
The dad part, not the single part, he wanted to add. But he didn’t want to sound like a creep either.
‘Sorry,’ Crowley said, ‘didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Oh, not at all.’
He didn’t feel like talking about it. Tabitha. Pepper. His complete inability to look after a bereaved pre-teen who hated his guts. Would much rather learn more about Crowley instead. He glanced up at him, into hypnotic golden eyes.
‘So. How did you end up with an eleven-year-old?’
Crowley's top lip curled into that sarcastic little smile again.
‘No offense, but you seem a little old for the birds-and-the-bees talk.’
Aziraphale frowned. Was he missing something?
‘Especially with a kid of your own,’ Crowley added, raising an eyebrow.
‘Oh.’ Understanding dawned and Aziraphale felt his face flush hot and red. ‘Um. Pepper’s not actually my daughter, you see. She’s my niece. I adopted her just this summer.’
‘Ah.’
Crowley lifted the mug to his lips and took a long sip of coffee. Fantastic, thought Aziraphale. Trust him to make it awkward in no time. To his credit, Crowley did not ask any more. If he had uttered even just a single ‘why,’ everything would have crumbled. Aziraphale would have either broken down in tears and emptied his heavy heart right then and there, or he’d have shut down and made up an excuse to leave. He was grateful for Crowley’s tact. Felt a little bad even for thinking him a prat this entire week.
They both drank in silence for a little while. Aziraphale stared at the stubborn copper curl that kept falling into Crowley’s face, nearly ending up in the coffee mug. He didn’t really know this man at all. And yet. Perhaps he was like him. Lost with the burden of responsibility. Resentment battling remorse. Curiosity got the better of him.
‘So, tell me about your son. Adam, was it?’
An open question. Could mean anything. Tell me about his character. Tell me about his life with you. Tell me about how you ended up with a pre-teen when you look like you’ve barely graduated university. Crowley stared at him, perhaps figuring out how much he wanted to share with this stranger.
‘Tale as old as time,’ he said after a while. ‘We were sixteen, thought we were immune to consequences. Idiots, both of us. She got pregnant. Don’t regret it now, obviously. Love Adam to bits. But, er, wouldn’t recommend it.’
Aziraphale added up the numbers in his head. That made Crowley two or three years older than he was. Blimey. A father at sixteen.
‘That must have been tough.’
‘It was fine. We were lucky, actually. Two sets of supportive parents. Adam still sees them all the time. Both me and Leah finished school, got our degrees from the Open University. All worked out in the end.’
Aziraphale could tell he made it sound easier than it was. But perhaps he too didn’t want to share his struggles with a random stranger in Costa.
‘And Adam’s mum?’
He wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking here either. He only knew that his filter, which was usually quite reliable, had broken down entirely this morning. Crowley had burned a hole right through it.
‘Broke up five years ago. Adam had just started primary. He stayed with me. Used to see her a lot, though, at weekends and such, but she’s been on a tour round the world with her boyfriend for nearly two years now. I don’t mind, honestly. Get to spend even more time with Adam. It’s a win-win.’
‘I see.’
How disappointing. For a minute there he’d thought he and Crowley had something in common. Both burdened with responsibility at an age when they should, by rights, be egotistical and free. But Crowley evidently loved being a dad. Made it a choice, even, because he liked it. Liked having another human rely on him completely. Having his entire life taken up by a child with needs and moods as unpredictable as the weather. Aziraphale didn’t get it at all. Would never feel this way.
There was a bit of an awkward silence. He wondered whether Crowley was expecting more information about him. About Pepper and Tabitha and what had happened. He really didn’t want to talk about it. Any other topic of conversation would do. Then he remembered what Crowley had said in the car.
‘You called Pepper notorious earlier. What’s that all about?’
Crowley laughed, and the tension broke.
‘Oh, nothing bad, I promise. Just. She made quite the impression on Monday. Challenged the Year Seven boys to arm-wrestle her at the lunch table.’
‘She did what?’
‘I know! Adam had just lost when the teacher caught them. Fighting’s strictly forbidden, you see. Both got a reprimand. Adam was fuming.’
He didn’t know where to start.
‘Arm-wrestling is hardly fighting.’
‘That’s what he said, too. But rules are rules. What I want to know is: what the hell was going through your girl’s head to challenge fifteen boys to an arm-wrestling match on her first day in a new school?’
Aziraphale sighed, head suddenly heavy with the pain of it all.
‘I wish I knew. She’s like that. Erratic. And I don’t know if it’s just the circumstances or, you know, her personality.’
‘What was she like before… before she came to live with you?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said and it was the truth. ‘I didn’t really know her then.’
Crowley fixed him with those piercing eyes, but didn’t ask any more. Aziraphale was torn between the desire to share, to trust, and the instinct to hold back.
‘I’m a bit lost,’ he admitted, finally, ‘with this whole—’ The word parenting hung in the air, but he didn’t want to say it. ‘—with this whole looking after Pepper thing. I don’t know how to deal with her. At all.’ Aziraphale couldn’t stop talking. He’d started and everything wanted to come out. ‘I’m twenty-four, for heaven’s sake. Can hardly look after myself. And now she’s here and she’s… fighting other children at school and I haven’t got a clue about how to deal with it.’
‘Eh,’ said Crowley with false nonchalance. ‘Adam probably deserved it. Good for him to get knocked down a peg or two. Too cocky for his own good.’
‘Wonder who he got that from.’
Aziraphale tried to match the pretend light tone. It was unconvincing. Crowley swallowed, his fingers turning white as he tightened his grip on the coffee mug. He stared at Aziraphale with mesmerising eyes. Set something inside of him aflame.
‘I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be reaching here, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want,’ Crowley began and Aziraphale knew he would never do that. ‘But if there’s anything I can help you with. I mean. I’m not exactly dad-of-the-year material myself. But Adam and I, we get along all right. Been doing this for over a decade. Thought maybe you’d like to talk about some stuff.’
A lump inflated in Aziraphale’s throat. He wanted to cry at the kindness. He held back. Smiled, instead, possibly for the first time this week.
‘I’d love that,’ he breathed, suddenly aware of how much he’d needed this. An offer of help. A friend. A hot cup of tea on a disastrous Friday morning and a smile he could get lost in.