Chapter Text
Crowley’s fingers tap rapidly on the faux wood of his desktop, the phone pressed so hard to his ear that he feels it in his skull. “What does that mean, Gabriel?” He likes to think his voice sounds even, but he hears the gravel of terror in it as he speaks.
“It means I sold the aquarium, Crowely, how much clearer would you like me to be?” Gabriel, his now apparently former boss, is still not answering Crowley’s true question of what does that mean for HIM? He groans audibly, listening as Gabriel continues in his trademark arrogant tenor. “That place isn’t my problem anymore. Agnes Nutter, the buyer, should be coming by in a couple of weeks’ time. I’m sure she'll tell you whatever it is she plans to do with it. ‘Til then, business as usual.”
“Business as usual...” Crowley echoes in a low voice, his head slowly lowering to the desk to smack repeatedly into the lacquered surface as he continues to listen.
“I don’t know what she’s going to do with that money pit and as long as it’s not my money it’s losing any longer, I don’t particularly care. Good luck Crowley, have a nice life.” The line clicks and he lets the receiver fall from his face to the table. He stays there, forehead resting on his desk, as he closes his eyes and starts to catalog options in his head.
The Tadfield Aquarium has been his home for ten years. It was his first job out of college, and his pride and joy, regardless of what Gabriel likes to think of it. Sure, attendance has been down since the new zoo opened an hour away from them, but they've always operated in the green (if only barely) and he’s still convinced that what they have here is far better than any small fish aquariums the new Southampton zoo could offer. Their manatee rehabilitation center alone was one of the best in the country, not to mention their octopus relocation program. Crowley had poured his heart and soul into this place and its sea life. How anyone could even think of shutting them down boggled his mind.
He’s getting ahead of himself; he has no idea what this Agnes woman plans to do with them now that she’s the owner. Who knows, maybe she’ll take Crowley’s advice as the director and keep them up and running. He groans at his own thoughts even as he tries to let the hope bubble up.
Sitting up, he looks around his office. Photos of all five of the manatees that have passed through here line the wall and he feels a sudden jolt of fear, not knowing what will happen to Myrtle (his current resident) if they do get shut down. He shakes his head, hands coming up to card through his hair in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves. “This is fine, it’ll be fine,” he says aloud to no one but the rabbit foot fern that lives in the corner of his office.
Well there’s nothing to do but get on with it. Crowley still has a job to do, while he has it, so he better get out to the tanks before Myrtle gets upset about a late feeding this morning. He’s still in his head about it when he steps out of his office and heads across the hall to the tank area doors.
“You know Myrtle doesn’t like it when we’re late.” The words come from behind him and he turns to see Anathema, his partner in the manatee tank, popping her head out of her office.
Rolling his eyes dramatically, he continues walking and pulls open the door. “You always could have started without me.”
The cackle of laughter comes from directly behind him now as she follows him out into the tank area. “You're the big boss man. And besides, we both know she likes you better.”
They crowd up onto the catwalk over the sprawling tank that covers most of their square footage. His footsteps rattle the metal of the walkway as he looks down at all the smaller fish and sea life housed there, the outlines of the plexiglass tunnels that weave through the middle barely discernible through the water's surface. So much life, all of which may not have a home in two weeks’ time.
“You’re awfully grumpy today,” he hears over the noise of their feet on the steel grating.
“I’m always grumpy.” He huffs in irritation and steps off onto the flooring between the tanks. He glances left to the top of their three octopus tanks, before turning right and heading to Myrtle’s.
“Ah yes, true. But you seem especially prickly today.” She unfortunately seems to notice his not so subtle glance towards the other tanks and adds “He’s still in the break room.” Crowley ignores the call out and continues over to the preptable to start gathering the morning feed of seagrass. “You’re the boss. You are aware you can make excuses to see him, right?”
If ever a time existed that Crowley would be willing to have a conversation about the unspoken crush he has on his other lead keeper, now would certainly not be it. It’s embarrassing enough that since he arrived two months ago, he’s been called out for inadvertently dropping his grouchy exterior whenever he was around the man. He doesn’t need Anathema incessantly prodding him to admit to it. “I am the boss. You made your own point.” It comes out a bit too petty for his liking, but with his attitude as volatile as it is at the moment, he isn’t surprised.
“Whatever,” Anathema picks up the first prepped bucket and starts shaking it in the water, “I’m technically Newt’s superior and it doesn’t affect our jobs.”
Crowely takes her empty bucket and swaps it out with a full one, the whole time glaring at her carefree face. “Newt works with the stingrays, how much crossover can your work possibly have?”
”And Aziraphale works with the octopuses, you made your own point.” She throws his words back at him, along with the empty bucket.
“Not the same. He’s my other lead keeper. We work together daily. We have to. Besides, this...we...I don’t even know what you're talking about.” Crowley has been done with this conversation since it started. Blowing a stray red hair out of his face in frustration, he storms past her with a bucket and throws it in himself.
It’s at this oh so opportune moment that Aziraphale himself, along with his fellow keeper Maggie, stroll out from the break room across the tank from them. Crowley glances up, because of course he does, to catch a moment of a smile on Aziraphale’s face as he climbs onto the catwalk. The involuntary grin that spreads on his own face is so instinctive he almost doesn't realize it happens.
Crowley, aware that he is apparently being read like an open book, chooses to turn around and walk back to the food prep station. “I think I’m gonna go ahead and get in with her.” He pulls his wet suit up from where it hangs around his waist and starts to zip himself up. “Would you mind throwing the rest in?”
Anathema turns her stare from the new pair back to him and rolls her eyes. “Always with the avoidance. Sure, whatever.” She heads over to the table and Crowley thanks something for small mercies.
He knows he’ll need to speak to Aziraphale later, he’s the first person he needs to tell about this whole sale debacle, but for the moment he tries to avoid looking at him as he slips down the ladder. It gives him only a little bit of deniability against Anathema, but it’s something.
As soon as his body is immersed, he feels the telltale rub of Myrtle’s tail and ducks under the waster in his snorkel and mask. She’s swimming toward him, a massive, slow moving behemoth with a mouth full of seagrass and his smile returns effortlessly. His outstretched hand moves along her flank as she swims past him, then, from behind, he feels a nip at the heel of his flipper. She was upset her breakfast was late. Laughing through his snorkel, he runs his hand along the rest of her tail, appreciating the moment, as she passes by lazily.
It’s then, as he watches her swim away, that all the emotions and fear from the morning come crashing down at once, the gut punch of possibly losing this place really setting in. This place that he’d poured his life into, where they had helped so many animals and had the ability to help so many more. He couldn’t let it go. There had to be something they could do to save this amazing little haven he’d helped create.
Watching Crowley slip into the manatee tank was one of Aziraphale’s favorite perks of his new job, though admittedly there were many. This position was the closest he’d come to his dream job and really, just the opportunity to hold this post was a perk. He watches Crowley through the top of the water, unable to make out anything but blurred shapes from this distance. But any chance to see Crowley in his element, with Myrtle, was hard to look away from.
He starts to stand, eyes still stuck on the distorted forms, when a large feeding stick is thrust in front of his face. “I know he’s easy on the eyes, but you can’t even see him from up here.” Maggie, his assistant keeper and one true friend in the city, wiggles the stick until he frowns at her and snatches it out of her hand.
”It’s just fascinating to see them together. He really has a connection with her.” He turns quickly, removing any chance of her seeing his warmed cheeks. He was her boss and Crowley was his boss. He shouldn’t be seen ogling the man on the job. The two of them worked well together, made a good team as head keepers, even with Crowley being the director as well. Even when he had interviewed for the position, they seemed to immediately have the same opinions on leadership and animal care. It was truly a dream job getting to do what he loved in a small privately owned aquarium with the small group of wonderful people that worked here. He’s not sure how he possibly could have gotten so lucky, but here he is. So, that being said, he best try to not muck it up by drooling over his boss.
Lost in his thoughts, it’s a moment before he realizes Maggie is speaking to him. “… like that with all of them. Anathema is convinced he can talk to them and won’t tell us.” She laughs and Aziraphale hands over the bucket of food so they can start adding pieces to the feeding sticks. “But, more likely it comes from tending to their wounds, building a trust.” Aziraphale watches her thread a piece of shrimp while he takes in all the information and tries to catch up to the conversation, eyes inadvertently starting to stray to the other tank. “I think there’s a bond formed when an animal knows you’ve saved it.”
Aziraphale nods involuntarily. His gaze has given up all its pretenses and is now back on the tank as he sees a red head break the surface. He hears over the rushing of filters and water, “She keeps nipping my ankle, guess that late feed really did tick her off.”
Aziraphale can’t help the laugh that escapes him when he hears, “Told you,” shouted back from the platform. He smiles and looks to Maggie, who is wearing an equally amused grin.
They work from tank to tank through the morning, three in total, with three very beautiful creatures:a mimic octopus and two east pacific red octopuses, to be specific. One is only two months away from being returned to the ocean it was rescued from, if all goes to plan. This kind of work was so different to the large-scale aquariums he’d worked at in London and the joy it brought him each day truly changed the way he now looked at his work. It felt, for once, like he was helping them rather than maintaining their capture. Even though their mimic, Muriel, would never get to return to the ocean due to her injuries, he felt comfortable knowing he was helping give her a good life as much as he could.
He knows it must be around noon when he turns from the last tank to find Nina standing by the shrimp bucket. “Maggie, Nina’s here,” he shouts towards the office behind him, knowing Maggie is tucked away at a desk recording feeding information. Aziraphale starts wiping down the counter with the towel in his hand and turns back to Nina. “Hello Nina, how have the children been today?” Nina runs the learning centers dotted around the aquarium. She always manages to make a day with a building full of children sound like combat, never failing to provide entertaining stories of her day in battle.
“A kid threw up in the frog bog, might need to replace a square of carpet, but other than that, oddly calm. It’s a bit unnerving, actually.” She creases her brows and appears to start speaking again, except the voice comes from behind her and is lower in register.
”Aziraphale,” Crowley walks up from behind Nina just as Maggie walks out of the office.
”Oh, quite the gathering. Are we all doing lunch?” she says to the assembled group.
Nina chuckles and reaches out for her wrist. “Come on, I’m sure he needs Aziraphale for something terribly important,” she says dryly, pulling her through the door to the hall and leaving the two of them suddenly alone with the background noise of running water and buzzing pumps. Aziraphale had never held issue with being alone with Crowely. They worked together so often it was never something he gave a second thought to, but Nina’s snarky comment makes him bristle just a bit.
Stepping to the side, Aziraphale removes his gloves and turns to see Crowley looking oddly…uneasy? Well, that certainly didn’t do anything for his sudden and unexpected nerves. “What? Why do you have that look on your face?” In the two months they’ve been working together, Aziraphale has noticed he always gets better, more honest answers from Crowley when he treats him like his peer and not his boss. Seeing as they work more as a team than as director and lead keeper, he’s never felt like it’s crossed a line and today was no different, nerves be damned.
Crowley runs a hand over his face, like he’s upset that he was found out. “Come have lunch in my office. We should talk.”
“Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all.” Crowley throws him a look he can’t quite read and then walks off across the catwalk with the clear expectation that Aziraphale will follow him.
Crowley had taken it upon himself to order sushi, which makes Aziraphale immediately suspicious. “Altight,” he says, breaking apart his wooden chopsticks, “what is it?”
Crowley is pacing, which in and of itself isn’t wholly unusual, but the hand that won’t leave his hair would be a dead give away if Aziraphale hadn’t already suspected something was wrong. He stops and pivots, before he falls back onto the couch on the side of the room. “Gabriel sold the aquarium.”
The piece of eel currently sliding down his throat sticks and he coughs before finally managing to swallow. “I’m sorry, what?!”
“Called me this morning. Sold it to a Mrs. Agnus Nutter, apparently.” He drops his head back to the couch, sushi forgotten.
“Well..I mean, what..what does that mean for us exactly?” Aziraphale wisely doesn’t attempt another bite and sets his chopsticks down, focusing solely on the man across from him.
He waits for an answer and Crowley takes a long, deep breath before saying, “I don’t really know, honestly.” He sits up slowly, elbows resting on his knees. “But I’m afraid I might have a good idea.”
”Well, couldn’t this be a good thing? You’ve never had one decent thing to say about Gabriel, certainly a new owner couldn’t be worse.” He’s hoping out loud, knowing this could go one of a hundred wrong ways.
“The thing is, I’m surprised Gabriel kept us open as long as he did. Our attendance has gone down in the last year since the zoo opened in Southampton and…”
”You think she’ll shut us down?!” Aziraphale hadn’t jumped to that conclusion yet and the thought of it is like a hit to the chest. “What makes you think...”
“Gut feeling, I guess. We’re small. We bring in money, but barely. Gabriel always joked about shutting us down.” He shakes his head, his hand once again buried in his short red hair. “He hated this place. Just a bored millionaire with money to blow.”
Aziraphale wasn’t ready to lose his job. He loved this place, even after such a short time. He’s a bit stunned really. This was not the lunch he thought he would be having. He thought maybe Crowley was being forced to do another fundraiser event or something. Not this. “So what do we do?”
Crowley looks up, a smile creeping onto his face. “That was the first question I asked myself too. What do we do?” He stands up and comes back over to the desk, seemingly on more stable footing now that he knows Aziraphale is just as willing to fight for this place as he is. “We need to bring up attendance. She’ll be here in two weeks. If we can just show this lady that we can be truly profitable, maybe we have a fighting chance.” He takes up his chopsticks and searches for a piece of sushi before bringing it to his mouth.
Aziraphale is still thinking, sushi deemed inconsequential while he goes over scenarios in his head. “We need something new. Several somethings new, honestly. Something to bring people in that they haven’t seen before, without adding an exhibit we don’t have space for.”
His brain is still going over possibilities when Crowley says with creased brows, “What about..events?”
”Exactly, something that doesn’t really cost anything, but will draw people in.”
”Right.” They sit in silence for a moment and Crowley eventually asks, “can you think of anything?”
Aziraphale huffs a laugh. “At the moment? No. Not really. But I’m sure we can think of something.”
”Or several somethings, maybe.” Crowley says in a serious voice, but the lift in the corner of his mouth is giving him away. There’s something in Aziraphale that lightens when he sees that Crowley is willing to fight for this too and he returns the small smile, even as he ducks his head back to his food.
The sushi is once again the main focus for a time, as both internally catalog their options. Even though Aziraphale is trying to focus on ideas, the pure grief of his dream job slipping through his fingers so quickly after he had found it has his concentration cracking a bit.
Aziraphale's voice is quiet when he finally speaks, softly breaking the silence that had fallen in the office. “This is the best job I've ever had.” He pokes at his sushi, not looking up.
Crowley’s response is just as low, a slight resignation coloring his voice. “Yeah. Me too.”
They sit with their confessions, slowly making their way through the rest of their lunch. A sense of trepidation creeps into the silence and Aziraphale’s dread wraps around him like a constricting snake.
His spiraling thoughts are interrupted when Crowley says, “It’s your weekend off, right?”
It’s true. It’s Maggie’s turn to do the weekend feed, with the keepers not generally coming in on the weekends. “Yes.”
Crowley seems to hesitate for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with his sticks, then he looks up at Aziraphale. “You want to come over to my place tomorrow night? Nail down some ideas we can put into motion on Monday?”
Aziraphale immediately tenses. On one hand, it makes logical sense and he’s curious about Crowley’s flat, their friendship being mostly work-based rather than after hours. On the other, it’s Crowley’s flat, and he already has enough trouble keeping his eyes off him across a 20 foot tank. He’s really going to have to keep his shit together if they do this.
Finally swallowing his nerves, he tries to sound nonplussed when he says, “Sure, that’ll work. I generally take the bus though, if you could give me a ride.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he remembers. Crowley doesn’t have a car. Crowley has a bike. A very sleek Triumph to be exact, and Aziraphale is already regretting his request.
Crowley’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline as he absorbs the question. “Have you ever ridden a bike?”
Internally, Aziraphale is screaming ‘NO’. Thoughts of being pressed against this man's back with his arms wrapped around his waist are streaming across his mind's eye. Out loud, he says with as much confidence as he can muster, “No, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you don’t mind, of course.”
Crowley is already shaking his head, “No, no not at all, that’s fine.” The ‘fine’ is pitched a bit higher than would be considered normal and Aziraphale is afraid he may have overstepped.
“Really, it’s not a problem for me to catch a bus...”
Crowley cuts him off, his face a bit panicked if Aziraphale is reading it correctly, and that’s...odd. “No, really. Not an issue. I’ll bring my extra helmet tomorrow.”
Aziraphale takes a breath, calming his internal monologue telling him this is probably a bad idea. “Alright, thank you. I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something, if it means saving this place.”
He watches the red hair bounce over Crowley’s forehead as he nods. “Yeah, sure we can.” He says it almost to himself, as if to assure himself as much as Aziraphale.
“So…when do you tell everyone else?” Aziraphale asks, selecting one of the last remaining pieces of sushi.
Crowley leans back in his chair, his hands coming up to rub across his face before they thread back into his hair again. “Tomorrow, probably? Bad news is always best on a Friday, right?”
Aziraphale nods, swallowing before he says, “How much are you going to tell them? Do they know where the financials stand?”
Crowley shakes his head. “No, well...I mean, Anathema knows a little. But I never wanted to worry anyone. More of my weight to carry, you know?” He looks up at him from where his head is resting in his hands, elbows on the table. Aziraphale does know. No need to stress your employees when they need to be focused on the animals. “I’ll probably just present it as a ‘lets meet the new owner with our best foot forward’ scenario.”
Aziraphale sits back, nodding. “Well, I hope you have something to drink at your flat. Feels like we’ll be in for quite the night of brainstorming.”
Crowley laughs. “No worries there, Ang...Aziraphale.” He coughs, then continues quickly. “I have a fully stocked liquor cabinet.” Crowley then stands up abruptly and starts to clear off the table, leaving Aziraphale to wonder what the hell that just was.