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Dr Aziraphale Fell was finding it difficult not to wiggle out of his desk chair as he read the email awarding him a grant from the University of Inverness Institute for Biodiversity and Freshwater Conservation. He had been selected to participate in a study to test sensors that would be attached onto freshwater animals to gather information about the environment in which they lived. The grant was specifically geared towards the ecosystem of Loch Ness.
Aziraphale could barely contain his excitement! He’d always been interested in Loch Ness; it contained the greatest volume of freshwater found in the British Isles, and it was in his favourite country!
Further reading established that the budget wasn’t very large. He would have to stay in a cheap hotel, but no matter. He would be out on a boat most of the time, so that would be fine. The Institute had charted the Witchfinder for the five-day duration of the study.
Sounds like a nice boat, Aziraphale thought.
The final paragraphs of the email contained additional information, such as when he was expected in Drumnadrochit to begin the research. He was about to close the email, figuring he could read the finer details in a few days, when he noticed the mention of a second grant for a similar study. This grant was funded by the eccentric billionaire Angus Shadwell, who owned and captained Witchfinder. Another freshwater biologist, the recipient of this larger grant, would be joining Aziraphale on the vessel. Well, some company will be nice, he thought.
Then he read the name of the other scientist: Dr Anthony Crowley.
A notorious mad lad and well-known cryptozoologist. Always after some mysterious creature or place, like Atlantis.
There was only one thing—creature—that could be of interest for him. Nessie.
Aziraphale, out of curiosity, read one of his papers and was shocked. It was very good. It was obvious that Dr Crowley was well-versed in his field of work.
The paper thanked The Shadwell Institute for the funding, and mentioned that the techniques Crowley described would be used for future research at Loch Ness.
Apparently, the future has arrived, Aziraphale thought irritably.
Day 1
The morning of Aziraphale’s first venture out onto Loch Ness arrived with a sky of soft muted greys. The sun had yet to peek out from behind the clouds, but it was at least set to be a blessedly calm day, and after a good night’s sleep in his comfortable hotel bed and a hearty breakfast, Aziraphale was feeling in buoyant spirits. So much so, that he had almost forgotten who he was to be sharing his research vessel with. Almost.
They were supposed to leave the dock at 6 am. Aziraphale needed to catch the eels and fish when they were near the surface of the water in order to attach the tiny sensors. He certainly wasn’t planning on diving to find these animals. Besides the notoriously dark and murky waters of the loch, the water temperatures were quite cold; he didn’t fancy going for a dive or a swim. The animals he wanted would be close to the water’s surface in the early morning and late evening, and that was sufficient for his purposes.
Captain Shadwell had assured him that they would leave at six. At least, Aziraphale thought that’s what the man had said. His accent was hard to pin down, and it kept shifting. Perhaps he had made all of his wealth because no one understood him and just gave him money or whatever he wanted in order to make him go away?
***
It was 9 am. The sun was high in the sky on this summer’s day. Shadwell was singing softly into his phone, and Aziraphale briefly wondered if he was singing to an actual human. But then decided he didn’t actually want to know.
Finally, the infamous Dr Crowley appeared on the dock. He was wearing sunglasses, tight black jeans, a black Henley, and a leather jacket. Definitely not dressed for a day on the water, Aziraphale thought. He was dragging a large dive bag and pushing a cart that seemed to have computer monitors piled high in it, with wires trailing behind.
“You’re late. We were supposed to leave at six,” Aziraphale complained when Crowley boarded the vessel. Seeking to help out a fellow researcher, he brought Crowley’s cart on board. In addition to the monitors and cables, the cart was packed with computers and boxes of sensors.
“Nessie wasn’t awake at 6 am. And neither was I.”
Aziraphale was too stunned to say anything, he was just watching Crowley scatter his equipment all over the boat.
Trying to be polite, even though he was seething inside, Aziraphale stuck out his hand and said, “Aziraphale.”
Crowley shook it, responding, “Crowley.”
“Excuse me, about all of this paraphernalia you’ve brought—” Aziraphale began.
The engines made a roaring sound, and the boat jerked forwards as it began to leave the dock.
The sudden movement surprised Crowley. He stumbled and was falling over, straight into the arms of Aziraphale. His sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose slightly, and Aziraphale caught a glimpse of the most intriguingly coloured eyes he’d ever seen.
Crowley righted himself quickly, although they remained in an awkward embrace for several moments, staring at each other. Aziraphale finally forced himself to take a step back, fighting a sudden desire to deepen the embrace. Ridiculous, he thought. I’ve only known him for ten minutes.
“Ngk.”
“Oh, dear. Are you alright?”
“ ’M fine. It's too early.”
“It is 9 am! And we should have left hours ago,” Aziraphale continued to complain. "And could you please leave some space for me?” He was watching the scene in front of him, as Crowley rolled the cart from the deck into the cabin, and began unpacking. The small cabin was slowly filling with his equipment.
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, which were barely visible behind his sunglasses—why would he even wear those inside?—Crowley moved a few cables to make room for Aziraphale.
“Happy?” he asked very sarcastically.
“No. Why do you need all this stuff anyway?” Aziraphale was looking curiously at the sensors, some of which looked oddly self-made.
“You really think mainstream scientific tools are capable of detecting Nessie?” Crowley asked.
“No, because Nessie doesn’t exist!” Aziraphale said with a huff.
“Pfft, says you. You’re just the fish guy.”
“E-excuse me, the what?!” Aziraphale asked, outraged.
Crowley pushed his sunglasses further up his aquiline nose, shielding his eyes fully from view. “Yeah, I’ve read some of your papers,” he replied with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “I mean, they were…fine. Technically proficient and all that. But they lacked any flare or originality. Where were your bold theories? Where was the pizzazz?”
“Pizzazz? We’re scientists!” Aziraphale spluttered incredulously, but the man didn’t appear to hear him.
“You come to a place like this.” Crowley stretched out his arms, gesturing to the slate-blue waters visible through the windows. “And all you’re interested in is sticking some sensors on a bunch of slimy fish.” He turned back to Aziraphale and gave him a shrug. “Just seems like a bit of a waste, in my opinion.”
Bristling, Aziraphale snatched up his own case of sensors to begin arranging them on his meagre scrap of table space. “Well,” he began pointedly, “I’m sure one could say the same about spending scientific grant money investigating a mythological creature that doesn’t exist.”
Infuriatingly, Crowley didn’t appear to rise to the bait. “Doesn’t exist, eh? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” he replied with a smirk before picking up one of the home-made looking thingamajigs and sauntering outside with it onto the deck.
“Don’t forget,” he called out to Aziraphale, “absence of proof is not proof of absence.”
Once the door had closed behind him, Aziraphale let out a slow breath to try and regain some sense of calm. Exciting research opportunities or not, this was going to be a very long five days.
***
Since the animals he wanted to tag were nowhere to be found this late in the morning, Aziraphale decided to make some tea. Shadwell and Crowley had been deep in conversation for a while, which was not surprising considering it was Shadwell who was funding him. Listening to their conversation, while pretending not to, he deduced that the Captain knew much more about the history of the loch and Nessie than Aziraphale had expected. Perhaps eccentric billionaires do know something after all, he pondered. He also realised that Shadwell’s accent was getting easier to understand.
As a peace offering, he brought cups of tea to the two men. They drank while watching the shore slowly getting further away.
“We’re heading to the north end, where most of the sightings have been recently,” Crowley explained. He opened a box that had been on the vessel when Aziraphale boarded, rummaged around, and pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Here, use these and start looking for anything unusual.” Their fingers touched as Aziraphale accepted them, and he felt a flutter deep inside.
That’s already unusual, he thought. Must have been my imagination.
Aziraphale studied the heavy binoculars, then looked briefly through them. “Crowley, these are military grade.” He peered into the box they were stored in, and noticed all of the equipment had government stamps. “This box is full of military gear…”
Shadwell started muttering and quickly found a reason to be elsewhere on the boat. “He was an army sergeant,” Crowley explained. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he liberated some items when he was discharged. But, good news, those binoculars are so sensitive you’ll be able to see anything moving on the water!”
The day passed peacefully without any sign of Nessie. Aziraphale was surprised to discover how entertaining Crowley could be, at least when he wasn’t talking about Nessie. They knew many of the same people, which was to be expected given they were in the same field, and Crowley’s stories of late-night debauchery were hilarious. Aziraphale stored some of those memories in case he needed to use the information the next time he argued with the head of his department.
What was unexpected were the little things Aziraphale noticed about him: the way the sun glinting off the water highlighted strands of his red hair, the flash of his beautiful eyes on the rare occasions he removed his sunglasses, the muscular arms and lean torso that he revealed when he removed his jacket and Henley, the faint sheen on his skin from the hot sun…
Aziraphale yanked his stray thoughts back to his research. It was near dusk, and he had work to do. Using long-handled nets, he began to carefully scoop fish and eels into buckets on the deck.
“Well, no Nessie today,” Crowley said with a sigh. He silently watched Aziraphale attach his sensors to the first few animals, then, much to the blond’s surprise, asked how he could help.
Sensing Crowley’s piqued interest, Aziraphale took the opportunity to enthusiastically explain the new technology that he was testing. “This device is attached to the fish and eels using a new, temporary bioadhesive that won’t affect the animal after the sensor falls off within a couple of weeks. In the meantime, the sensor tracks and measures the physical characteristics of the environment in which the animals travel. We’ll use that data to expand our knowledge of the loch, including temperature and salinity profiles, as well as locating and mapping any previously unknown caves.”
“Caves,” Crowley said slowly.
“Yes, there can be caves we don’t know of, since the loch is so vast and incredibly deep. The water is cold and murky, so we can’t learn much through scuba diving. I’m surprised you brought your gear, actually. If we can’t dive to explore, then tracking animals that visit caves is incredibly useful.”
“Some theories say that Nessie lives in a hidden cave.” Crowley put his hand on Aziraphale’s arm excitedly. “What if your research reveals new caves? What if the caves are large enough that Nessie could live in one?! You’re an angel!” He reached over and hugged Aziraphale.
Aziraphale was torn between putting the fish he was holding back in a bucket, and wrapping both arms around Crowley. He compromised by embracing Crowley while holding the fish. Possibly not his best idea as Crowley wasn’t wearing a shirt. And yet he smelled like heaven.
Day 2
The next morning Aziraphale was surprised to find Crowley waiting on the dock for him bright and early. Even Shadwell looked as if he was shocked to see the scientist up and about before dawn had fully broken. As he neared, Aziraphale wondered what could have prompted this change in behaviour. Perhaps the man was simply excited at the possibility of discovering new hiding places for this ‘Loch Ness Monster’ he so adored.
“Morning,” Crowley greeted him cheerfully, falling into step beside him as they walked to board Witchfinder together.
“Good morning,” Aziraphale replied politely, unsure of the reason behind the sudden undivided attention being lavished on him.
“So, are you going to be an angel today and let me use your fancy bioadhesive to attach some of my special custom-made sensors to a few of the fish and eels you catch?”
“Humm.” Aziraphale considered this for a moment. “Well, I suppose we might be able to come to some sort of arrangement, especially if you are willing to help me catch said fish and provide assistance when applying the adhesive and my own sensors, as well. The process would work much better with an extra set of hands; it was quite a challenge at times yesterday. Some of them were as slippery as, well, as eels.” He laughed at his own accidental joke.
To his delight, Crowley chuckled from beside him. “Sounds fair to me. My hands are yours to command for the day, angel,” he said with a suggestive raise of brows before sauntering on ahead.
Aziraphale stopped where he was in the middle of the deck. Good Lord, was it simply his imagination, or was he actually being flirted with?
***
“There we go, I think we’ve got a good system going now,” Aziraphale praised, as he lowered the last of the eels back into the loch whilst being careful not to dislodge one of Crowley’s sensors which was now stuck to its side. It had taken a couple of attempts, but he and his fellow scientist were now working much more in sync, and together they’d managed to greatly speed up the whole process.
“Yeah, who knew we’d work so well as a team once we actually started communicating properly, eh?” Crowley joked. “Right! Time to see what these little beauties can do.” Clapping his hands together, he picked up a sleek tablet and started tapping about on it.
Cleaning his own hands, Aziraphale wandered over to join him, curious despite himself at what information Crowley’s sensors might reveal.
“Ah, look at this!” the redhead pointed excitedly at the screen. His expression was so full of childlike joy that Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel himself breaking out into a beaming smile of his own. “One of the sensors we did earlier is already transmitting some interesting sonar data. Looks like it might be one of those caves you were talking about.”
Aziraphale crowded in closer to see, and as Crowley shifted to give him a better look at the screen, he became aware that they were pressed almost fully side to side. He tried to remain focused on the information before his eyes, but it was proving more difficult than he would have expected as Crowley’s warmth spread through the scant layers of fabric between their bodies and his alluring scent filled his senses. Thankfully, the other man seemed oblivious as he continued to chatter on enthusiastically about what it could all mean.
“Yes, well, jolly good. That all sounds marvellous,” Aziraphale said after a couple of minutes of fast-paced explanations. He was just beginning to extricate himself from the situation, perhaps with the excuse of making another well earned cup of tea, when Crowley’s hand shot out to rest on his forearm.
“Hang on, wait a sec. You’re gonna love this!” he said with a grin. The hand was removed, and after a few more taps a wave of sound blasted out of the device causing Aziraphale to cover his ears and Shadwell to yelp in surprise from the helm. Crowley cringed. “Oops. Had the volume set too high. Here.”
The unmistakable bubbling, burbling sound of being submerged in water came clearly through the tablet’s speakers. Aziraphale gasped. “You mean to tell me that your sensors contain underwater microphones as well!?”
“Yup,” Crowley replied smugly. “I told you, the sensors I’ve engineered are way better than any of the mainstream scientific equipment you can buy. If we keep going on like this, we’ll find Nessie in no time. There’ll be nowhere left for her to hide!”
“Humm, quite,” Aziraphale replied dubiously. He had to admit, Crowley clearly was a brilliant scientist. It was just a shame that his considerable talents were being entirely wasted on this wild goose chase of an expedition. Still, at least he would be getting some usable data from this and, questionable beliefs or not, he had to admit that the other scientist was starting to grow on him. He really could be quite charming in his own exuberant way. “Cup of tea?” he offered.
Crowley’s eyes never left the screen, still absorbed as he was in examining his new data. “Oh, yeah. Thanks, angel,” he murmured distractedly.
Day 3
They slipped easily into their new routine by the third day. Crowley was on the dock again before six and spent most of the morning chattering excitedly to both Aziraphale and Shadwell about what discoveries he hoped to unearth before the end of the week with his new ‘fish-propelled’ sensors. He would still occasionally refer to Aziraphale as ‘the fish guy’, but it was always accompanied by a mischievous smile now, as if he were simply trying to get a rise out of him so that they could continue their verbal sparring matches. Aziraphale was more than happy to oblige; bickering with Crowley was quickly becoming his new favourite hobby. It was this realisation that prompted him into doing something reckless (by his standards) that afternoon.
“Huh.” Aziraphale made a noise.
Crowley, who was connecting a wire that had loosened, looked over at him. “Did you say something?”
“Hm? Oh. No. No, I didn't. Just thinking.” Aziraphale smiled at the gorgeous sight of Crowley, whose beauty was enhanced by the sun.
“What were you thinking about?”
With a long sigh, Aziraphale placed his empty cup of tea down and folded his hands in front of his belly, carefully picking his words.
“How sure are you that you will find Nessie?” That sounds like the perfect compromise of words to not insult my fellow researcher, he thought.
“Very,” Crowley answered stubbornly.
“It’s been three days and not even one little sign of your monster.”
“It takes time.”
“Time and money. You and all the other,” Aziraphale hesitated, “mad lads are wasting all this time and money that could be used for important...”
“Important!? You think looking for all those creatures isn’t important? Without ‘mad lads’ like me we wouldn't have found, eh, psychrolutes marcidus.”
“Psychrolutes marcidus. You mean Blobfish? That is not a mythical creature.”
“Whatever. You don't believe me.”
“All right then, how about we make this interesting?” Aziraphale suggested innocently. He could instantly tell he had caught Crowley’s attention.
“What, like a bet or something?” Crowley asked, clearly intrigued.
“If you like. Would you care to name your terms?”
“Well, if I find Nessie you have to join me on my next research trip.”
“Good thing that won't happen,” Aziraphale replied smugly. The thought of spending more time with Crowley in the future caused his stomach to make a somersault of excitement though.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. And if you don't find her by the end of this excursion, you'll have to buy me dinner.”
The wire in Crowley's hands slipped and he looked, stunned, at Aziraphale.
“Dinner?” Crowley’s mouth curved into a smile. “Or you could just ask me for a date.”
"I am not asking for a date. Just dinner.”
Crowley smiled cheekily. “Just dinner it is.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, except for the heated looks exchanged between them. As important as the science was, Aziraphale could barely wait for the trip to end so that he could spend time alone with Crowley.
Shadwell took the vessel around the perimeter of the loch to allow the two men to investigate the entire shoreline. Crowley spent a fair bit of time leaning over the edge of the boat, using the enhanced binoculars to peer into hidden coves. Aziraphale spent a fair bit of time gazing at Crowley’s arse, instead of using his own binoculars to scan the water.
“Angel,” Crowley said suddenly, turning to look at Aziraphale, who quickly composed his expression into a neutral one. “Does that look like Nessie moving onto the shore?”
Aziraphale rushed over and stood next to Crowley, who moved behind him and put one arm around his torso while the other pointed to the exact location where he’d seen movement. Once again, Crowley’s heavenly scent enveloped Aziraphale. I’ll remember this forever, he thought. The flutter in his stomach was back, and this time he knew it wasn’t his imagination. Aziraphale didn’t see Nessie, but they remained in a partial embrace, breathing the same air, long after they’d motored past the cove.
Day 4
The morning of the fourth day started out very rainy.
“Perhaps we shouldn’t go out on the boat today,” Aziraphale said apprehensively.
“Seriously? It’s just a little rain,” Crowley said. “I checked the forecast. No thunder or lightning predicted, so it’s perfectly safe.”
“Would you even be able to see Nessie on a day like this?” Aziraphale asked. “If Nessie existed, anyway. Which she certainly does not.”
“She is usually only seen on sunny days,” Crowley conceded, “but my custom fish sensors should be able to find her, rain or shine.”
The scientists spent the rainy day inside the cabin of the vessel, each monitoring the activity of the sensors that had been placed. Aziraphale studied the readings from his standard ones, while Crowley scanned the signals from his own.
None of the devices indicated anything out of the ordinary, just the expected behaviour of fish attracted to the rain hitting the surface of the water. The animals certainly weren’t congregating in one area of the loch, which Crowley said would be an interesting event that would warrant further investigation.
“Perhaps the fish are avoiding the cave where Nessie is sleeping,” Crowley suggested.
“Perhaps.” Aziraphale was trying to be agreeable. All thoughts of alienating Crowley, or dismissing research in which he was clearly so invested, had left his mind. Crowley’s excitement and enthusiasm were infectious, and, combined with the man’s charisma, made him undeniably attractive.
They ate lunch with Shadwell, who told them various garbled, and frankly unbelievable, stories about how he’d made his money. His desire to find Nessie, no matter the cost, was possibly the only thing he said that made sense. His high regard for, and friendship with, Crowley was obvious.
“I’ll fund you both on another expedition here on the loch,” he offered unexpectedly. “Later in the summer. She likes to come out when the tourists are here, but I think we can lure her out of hiding once tourist season is over.”
More time with Crowley! Aziraphale thought. He didn’t miss Crowley’s pleased smile at the suggestion either.
“Would that be something you’d be interested in doing?” he asked Aziraphale as he leaned back in his chair, looking for all intents and purposes the epitome of cool indifference, but for the nervous bob of a knee.
“Yes, I think I might be able to be persuaded,” Aziraphale answered warmly.
“Ah, that’s the spirit!” Shadwell burst out happily, clapping them both on the back hard enough that some tea spilled over the rim of Aziraphale’s mug.
“I’ll get that,” Crowley offered, jumping quickly to his feet to grab a tea towel to mop up the liberated liquid.
“Thank you, my dear,” said Aziraphale softly as he looked up into Crowley’s gorgeous eyes. He’d taken to wearing his glasses less frequently the last few days, and a selfish part of Aziraphale hoped he’d continue to do so.
“You’re welcome, angel,” he mumbled back, cheeks starting to turn the palest shade of pink.
It was far too captivating, and they continued holding each other’s gaze for a good many seconds before they realised that Shadwell was still nattering away about their next expedition in the background.
Day 5
The morning of the last day was spent reviewing maps and data. Aziraphale and Crowley sat closely together, watching for any strange patterns of behaviour.
“Look,” Crowley said, “this is interesting. Lots of fish are swimming in the deep trench here.” He pointed to the bathymetric map showing a concentration of pings from the biosensors. “Can you take us to the middle of the loch, over the trench,” he called out to Shadwell.
“Would Nessie be resting in the deepest part of the loch?” Aziraphale spoke, putting his arm around Crowley’s shoulders and moving closer to him and the computer monitor.
“It’s certainly unexpected. But that’s what’s so fascinating about her: she keeps us guessing!” Crowley responded. He leaned against Aziraphale.
The concentration of fish gradually thinned, until there was no sign left of any unusual activity.
“Mark this location, Shadwell. We’ll need to return here on our next trip. There may be something worth investigating down there.”
They spent the afternoon packing away their various pieces of equipment, and gathering items they’d left around the boat. Crowley helped Aziraphale collect all of the mugs that had been left in various and surprising places; the strangest location was in the anchor locker.
“I swear I wasn’t near the anchor!” Aziraphale protested.
The other man just shook his head, smiling.
***
The sun was beginning to set. As it drifted further down towards the horizon, burnt orange and peach hues spilled out over the water, turning the lake into a canvas of colour. Although Crowley hadn’t been able to find Nessie, as he’d hoped he would at the start of the trip, he couldn’t quite bring himself to view this week as a complete waste. Despite their initial differences, he and Aziraphale had certainly hit it off, and even though the air around them was starting to chill, the other scientist’s presence beside him was enough to have him feeling warm and hopeful inside.
Crowley had never seen someone with such a smug face. He had pushed his glasses on top of his head, and was using his binoculars to scan the loch one last time.
Aziraphale was watching him and smiled. “Just give up, dear.”
“Ngk.” Crowley gave in and lowered the binoculars. “Fine. You won. See you at eight?”
“I would prefer a better establishment.”
“Where do you wanna go?”
“The Ritz.”
“The Ritz?”
“Yes, I can make a reservation.”
“You want me to travel to London to invite you to dinner?”
“Travel? But don't you live in London?”
“Not anymore.”
“Oh, well. Uhm, the pub will—”
Crowley pushed his sunglasses up his nose, at least he made the movement, but his glasses were still on top of his head, a light blush forming on his cheeks.
“I don't mind going to London,” he interrupted, placing his hand on Aziraphale's, which was resting on the railing. They watched the sunset over Loch Ness, shifting closer while their fingers intertwined.