:((

Shax and Aziraphale

By the end of season 2, Shax is the new Grand Duke of Hell and Aziraphale is the new Supreme Archangel of Heaven, so they are now each other's counterparts, the heads of their respective Sides.

(Sidenote: I am making an assumption here — Beelzebub does offer Shax the position of Grand Duke, but it's unclear whether that means she's got it. Maybe she'll start the season fighting with the Dark Council for the position, if she doesn't immediately start as Grand Duke. But this parallel works even if she doesn't actually occupy that role yet).

Remember, Gabriel and Beelzebub in season 1 were going along with the Great Plan, but they weren't really personally invested in it, so when that didn't pan out, they both realized they didn't want the headache of another Armageddon. In season 2 they're largely disillusioned and done with the whole thing. It's hard enough running Heaven and Hell as it is, they don't need another huge project like that to add to their plates.

Unlike their predecessors, then, Aziraphale and Shax both actually have a vision for their respective organizations, a vision that is uniquely their own and wasn't just written down and handed to them.

Aziraphale, post-season 1, is deeply disillusioned with Heaven. It's just a great, dull bureaucracy, with no understanding of morality and no interest in learning, which means it does more harm than Good to humanity. He goes to Heaven determined to change it, to align it with the sense of morality he's developed over thousands of years spent among humans. He will bring Heaven back to its true Purpose of preserving Humanity and influencing them towards the Light. He will make Heaven really, properly Good.

Shax, meanwhile, is in largely the same place as Aziraphale when we meet her. Deeply disappointed that Hell is just a great dull bureaucracy, and that her job as ambassador to earth is too easy, that Hell can't even do real Harm to humanity. Hell can't even muster a proper legion of Demons, for Satan's sake! But as Grand Duke of Hell, she could change things for the worse. She could bring Hell back to its true purpose of tearing Humanity apart, influencing them towards the Darkness. She could make Hell really, properly Evil.

Aziraphale and Shax are both driven and ambitious. They're both disappointed in the institutions they work for and equipped with big ideas for change. They're both clever and steely and determined. They're both adept at influencing people to get what they want, with a kind or a harsh word (See: Aziraphale getting the whole street to come to the meeting; Shax riling up Maggie in the bookshop).

They're both stubborn, and they're both fighters, and their approach to problem solving is essentially single-mindedness and blunt force, insisting that they will get their way. (See: Shax storming the bookshop even though they couldn't get in; Shax reappearing as the Hitchhiker until Aziraphale relented; Aziraphale refusing to be threatened by the people in the Edinburgh graveyard; Aziraphale miracle-ing everyone into a Jane Austen novel).

I think they’ll go head to head in season 3, and I think that relationship with Shax is gonna be really important to Aziraphale’s growth as an individual, to him figuring out who he is without Crowley.

Because Aziraphale has always relied on Crowley to externalize his inner strength.

Crowley constantly pushes him, challenges him, forces him to confront the places where his orders from Heaven or what he was taught don’t align with what he truly values, what he feels in his gut. Crowley forces him to act when Aziraphale's standing there, twisting himself up into knots trying to be Good. It's not that Crowley gives Aziraphale strength, no, Aziraphale has always had it in him. It's Aziraphale's strength that draws Crowley to him in the first place (giving Adam and Eve the flaming sword — Aziraphale frames it as a spur of the moment thing but really it took great strength of conviction). But for the most part, it's Crowley who draws that strength out of Aziraphale, who helps him accept and embrace that part of himself, who makes him comfortable with it.

(Their encounter with Furfur is a prime example of this to me. Crowley's mere presence beside him means Aziraphale is calm and confident and it's extremely hot. He stares Furfur down, performs the magic trick with ease. Contrast that with how flustered he gets when Shax confronts him alone at the beginning of that episode. And how he gets even more flustered when Shax threatens Crowley).

Crowley tempts Aziraphale into trusting himself, into being himself. And Aziraphale needs Crowley — he admits that plainly, in the end. Without Crowley, he doesn't know how to be himself. Aziraphale fundamentally lacks self-trust and self-confidence. Crowley’s belief in him, Crowley’s trust in him, stands in for what he lacks on his own. Now, facing Shax, I think it'll force him to trust his instincts and his judgments, and ultimately help him see things more clearly. All this time he's kind of let Crowley do that clear seeing for him. Now he's on his own against an adversary that's evenly matched to him and I think it will force him to become more sure of himself and what he wants and believes.

I've said that I think we'll see a darker side to Aziraphale in season 3. But I think where he'll ultimately land is with a balance between softness and steeliness, one that's anchored within himself and not reliant on Crowley. Because of the way they're set up as each other's mirrors, I think Shax will be really important to that growth. Shax has this skill of pinpointing and exploiting people's weaknesses and vulnerabilities. I think this means she'll be part of what forces Aziraphale to confront all the uncomfortable truths and contradictions and complexities he's been pretending not to see in himself for millennia. I think he'll have to openly define who he is and what he values in response to her poking at his weak spots (not only in response to her — Aziraphale has far deeper Issues than just Shax — but she'll kind of force him to do that growth himself).

We can imagine that season 3 is going to build towards Aziraphale seeing clearly what Crowley's known this whole time, that the entire system is fucked and can't just be fixed the way he hopes to. And I think maybe, in another clever role-reversal, we'll end up with Aziraphale explaining that to Shax, convincing her to join him and take on the Metatron together. The forces of Heaven and Hell, allied. And Aziraphale, now firm in his convictions and sure of who he is, leading the charge.

Muriel and Crowley

By the end of season 2, Crowley and Muriel are both, essentially, exiles. Crowley has rejected both Heaven and Hell, and neither of them have much of an interest in him anymore, especially now that the Metatron has managed to separate him and Aziraphale. Muriel has been (not completely, but all the same) cast out of Heaven, left on earth to run the bookshop, but really because they know too much and have seen too much, and the Metatron needs them contained.

Crowley sees pieces of himself in Muriel, feels some sense of kinship with them. (I mean yeah outwardly he's annoyed by them but especially after their little excursion to Heaven together you know they're best buds). They both crave connection. They are both endlessly curious, and fascinated by the world and humanity. Pure, open wonder at the world. A deep love for creation and excitement about its potential.

And Crowley sees these things, and gives them The Crow Road to read, which I have not read myself but I gather from the summary on Wikipedia that it's essentially a crash course in humanity, for the purposes of this show. So in this way, everything that Crowley has come to admire in humanity, he imparts to Muriel. I don't know how conscious his choice of book was, but by giving them a book at all he is saying, on some level, look. Look how fascinating, how weird and complex, how infuriating and scary and wonderful humanity can be.

Those qualities still live in Crowley (just look at that smile as he's watching Nina and Maggie in the rain) even if the pre-Fall version of himself that could express them openly is barely a memory to him. He is still full of that wonder and fascination, that curiosity and love, even if he's in deep denial about it out of necessity. And I think Crowley's relationship with Muriel is going to be very important to him fully claiming and owning those parts of himself again, and figuring out who he is without Aziraphale.

Because Crowley has always relied on Aziraphale to externalize his inner softness.

Aziraphale constantly pushes him, challenges him, forces him to confront the places where his behaviors and actions, who he truly is, don't align with the detached, uncaring front he puts up, or his orders from Hell. Aziraphale names him kind and good with that knowing little smile on his face while Crowley twists himself up into knots trying to justify his actions as Evil. It's not that Aziraphale makes Crowley soft, Crowley has always had it in him. It's Crowley's softness that draws Aziraphale to him in the first place (not just the Starmaker, but the "hello, Aziraphale!" at the Flood, and the way he spoke to Jemimah, a million other instances throughout the millennia). But for the most part, it's Aziraphale who names the softness that Crowley displays, who calls it out and embraces it when Crowley cannot.

(The Job minisode is a prime example of this to me. I mean, Aziraphale is hella annoying about it but still. When Crowley looks him in the eyes, full of anger, and insists he's pure Evil, Aziraphale stares right back and demands he prove it).

Aziraphale recognizes Crowley, sees him clearly, sees right to the heart of him, in a way Crowley struggles to do for himself. And Crowley needs Aziraphale to articulate the parts of himself that he cannot give voice to, because of the threat of Hell but also because of the deep trauma of his Fall and the fear and despair he carries from it. Crowley fundamentally lacks the ability to truly express himself, to stand up and say, this is who I am and what I want. And more than that, Crowley's entire purpose for millennia has been protecting Aziraphale, helping Aziraphale, defending "our side" and their "precious, peaceful, fragile existence" from the threats of Heaven and Hell both. So without Aziraphale, Crowley doesn't know how to be himself.

Now, on earth, I think his relationship with Muriel will force him to do that, to name the parts of himself that he's always let Aziraphale name for him. To call himself kind, to admit how much he cares for the earth and humanity, to reconnect with that feeling, after pushing it down and denying it for so, so long. I bet he'll try to sleep until Armageddon comes, but Muriel won't let him. I bet they'll keep finding him, asking him questions, relying on him to guide them as they get to know the earth and humans. And I think that will force him to truly drop the act, to state plainly that yes, he's not as evil as he paints himself to be, he does care for humanity, and to reckon with all the reasons why he's felt the need to deny that for so long.

I think we'll see a lot more of Crowley's past trauma in Season 3. I think we'll hear the full story of his Fall (and if he tells that story to anyone, I bet it'll be Muriel). I think he'll have to truly process through it, and I think where he'll ultimately land is with a fuller, more complete version of himself, that he doesn't need to rely on Aziraphale to express. He'll never be the Starmaker again, that's not the goal. But he will be able to care openly, to protect the earth and humanity because he wants to, and not feel the need to cajole Aziraphale into agreeing to do it with him. I think Muriel will be really important to that growth. Muriel is learning, and they need a teacher. They need someone who understands that the qualities that Heaven looks down on in them are actually strengths, someone to encourage them and bring them out. I think they'll be part of what forces Crowley to confront those same qualities in himself, to recognize and name them himself. I think he'll have to openly embrace who he is and what he values in order to help them do the same.

At the end of season 2, both Sides are content to leave Crowley and Muriel on earth, among the humans. The threats they both posed to the system have been neutralized by the end of season 2, in their view. How much harm can they do, really? A heartbroken ex-Demon and a "dim," low-ranking Angel, on earth, among the humans?

Quite a lot of harm, actually.

Because here's the crucial thing. Everyone overlooks Muriel. No one cares what they're thinking. They're sweet and a bit dim and easy to manipulate, so it seems. But they have always been curious, eager to learn, eager to connect. And they're on earth now. They're meeting humans, asking questions, reading books ("they're like people, only portable!"). Muriel is learning, not as painfully or viscerally as Crowley did, but still, learning.

Crowley knows this story too well. Crowley has lived this story, and season 3 will be his chance to live it again. How do you bring Heaven and Hell down? It starts with the Muriels. The Angels whose spark of curiosity wasn't beaten out of them, who weren't important enough to be paid much attention to, who are still open to question and to learn. The most overlooked and underestimated are the most dangerous to a system like that. They're the ones whose questioning could bring the whole thing down.

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.