Summary: Where Aziraphale learns about Crowley's secret review blog. Just as he also discovers where the 'J' in his name really stands for.

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"Crowley!" Aziraphale called out in evident distress, storming through the demon's home and even going as far as loudly slamming every door he came across to try and find said demon. "Crowley!"

"In here!" Crowley called out from among his plants for he had been watering and threatening them. He arched up an eyebrow as he put the plant spray away.

It didn't take long for Aziraphale to reach him. His wings were even out and the white plumage was puffed up all over the place - which Crowley knew only happened if the angel was seriously upset about something. "The Internet Person is at it again!" The angel complained, wings shaking.

"Are they?" Crowley asked, casually leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest as he gave the distressing angel all of his attention. "What did they do this time?"

'The Internet Person' is how Aziraphale had settled on calling this person who left negative reviews and badly ridiculous parodies on his favorite classic books and literature. To say that Aziraphale was pissed off about this person was an understatement, and he always came to Crowley to rant about it the very next day.

What the angel hadn't realized yet though is that this 'Internet Person' is actually Crowley himself. Why the demon did all of this? The answer was very simple – he thought it was rather hot to see the angel all flustered. And it was rather amusing to get under his skin like that as well.

It had gotten to the point where Aziraphale pretty much scorched down the entire internet during his free hours to find every single review and parody by 'The Internet Person', just so he could go to Crowley and bitch about it.

"They," Aziraphale started, puffing up his feathers even more like some kind of greatly offended bird, "they said that the movie version of The Tell-Tale Heart is way better than the literature one."

Crowley arched up his eyebrows. "What kind of book is The Tell-Tale Heart?" He asked, knowing the answer very well. He had written the review, after all.

"It's... it's a short story written by the American writer Edgar Allan Poe," Aziraphale told him. "And there isn't even a movie version of it!" The angel threw up his arms and started pacing around the room. Back and forth, back and forth. "This 'person' doesn't know what they're talking about at all! It's quite the deep and meaningful story."

"It's all about how the human heart is a tell-tale sign. It's quite fascinating and this 'Janthony' puts the incredible hard work of all those authors he 'reviews' in a bad light. He is sullying Poe's great name and making the poor man twist around in his grave," Aziraphale scowled, continuing his rant. Crowley let him be and nodded his head to let the angel know he was listening. " The Tell-Tale Heart refers to the beating heart that eventually drives the narrator to confess his crime. I swear, if I ever meet this Janthony person, it won't be a pleasant encounter." The angel spat out the name as if it was the world's greatest curse. Which was the closest he would get to cursing in his presence, Crowley guessed.

Aziraphale also still didn't knew that the 'J' of Anthony J. Crowley actually stood for Janthony.

And he couldn't help but wonder if he perhaps wasn't taking it a bit too far with his secret review blog. Watching the angel pace around the room, puffing up his feathers even more and twisting them all over the place with every step he took, Crowley frowned. "Angel, your wings are getting all puffy. You should perhaps calm down," he pointed out. It couldn't be comfortable to have one's wings twisted around in such ways.

"Calm down?!" Aziraphale screeched. His enormous wings flared out, the tips trembling as if containing a raging thunderstorm within. Those wings knocked one of his smaller plants towards the floor and Crowley winced for his lost plant but the angel didn't seem to notice, eyes ablaze in a barely contained fury. He had never seen his angel this way before - like a flash of the fierce warrior that all angels are supposed to be. Aziraphale was more often all smiles, and goodness, and so pure that he made the demon's heart ache. And perhaps he did went a bit too far, he slowly started to realize, if it made the angel act like this.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Crowley carefully stepped closer. "Angel, it's alright. I'm pretty sure that he didn't mean to upset you like that. It might have been a joke or something."

The angel went unnaturally still. His wings that were trembling and flaring out previously stopped all their movement and stilled like a statue, which unnerved Crowley more than it should. It reminded him of an eagle about to strike. The angel's clear eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and it took all of Crowley's willpower to keep his poker face on and not give himself away. "Crowley... is this perhaps your demonic influences at work?"

"Noooo," he dragged out, placing a hand in the pocket of his jeans and waving the other around to appear casually. "Of course not, I have better things to do with my free time than write stupid reviews!"

"Like what?"

And then Crowley was at a loss for words. "Eehhh," he stammered out, deciding to go with a whim and say whatever came to mind first, "like bringing down phone networks. And you know, other demonic Evil things. With the Capital E."

"You're Janthony, aren't you?" And just like always, Aziraphale could see right through him. Sometimes Crowley felt like he was a house of glass, all of his secrets bare before a certain angel.

"Noooo..." Aziraphale gave him a glare and Crowley changed mid-speech, "... maybe."

"Why Janthony?" The angel asked.

Crowley looked away. "It'swherethejstandsfor," he mumbled in one breath.

"What?" The angel frowned.

"IT'S WHERE THE J STANDS FOR!!!" He yelled.

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up behind his hairline and for a second, the angel stood completely stupefied at this new piece of information he obtained. Then he burst out laughing, wings shaking and awkwardly curling around him before they faded from view as he doubled over. Crowley scowled at him, feeling himself becoming slightly red in the face but too stubborn to admit his embarrassment. "So let me get this straight," he said when he had calmed down a bit, "your full name is Anthony Janthony Crowley?"

Crowley kept on scowling as Aziraphale started to laugh again, hopefully having forgotten about Crowley's review blog thanks to his newest discovery. "Shut up, Azira," he grumbled.

Aziraphale's eyes sparkled in amusement as he looked at him again. "I feel like I'm allowed to laugh in your face after the great evil you've pulled with those reviews of yours," the angel pointed out.

So he hasn't forgotten.

Crowley at least had the decency to look sheepish. Even if just a little bit. "How about I tempt you to lunch to make up for it?" He offered, putting up the most charming smile he could muster.

"Temptation accomplished," Aziraphale chirped, the amusement still swirling in his eyes. "Let's go get some crepes! I really feel like some crepes."

"Crepes it is then."