Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Can I watch a little bit of my movie while you keep cooking d-dinner?” Tartan asked, spinning in a circle in the kitchen.

Crowley had just checked on the chicken roasting in the oven. “You sure can, Bug. You were a big help in the kitchen today. I don't think I could have mashed all of those potatoes without you. What do you want to watch?"

Tartan beamed up at him with pride. "Lab'rinth!!"

"Labyrinth?" She'd been watching the movie all the week. "Maybe Papa and Austen will watch with you."

Tartan got comfortable on the sofa in the parlour, snuggled up next to Aziraphale, who was nursing her two month old baby sister, Austen. Crowley had brought them a small tray of cheese and crackers at the request of father and daughter.

A small time later, Crowley had just finished making gravy, the last step in dinner preparations. The table had been set, the chicken was ready to be sliced, and vegetables patiently waited to be doled out onto plates. He'd smiled to himself the entire time while listening to Tartan loudly recite lines from the movie. He could hear that she was currently rewinding the scene over and over. He walked to the parlour to summon an angel and two angelic demons to dinner.

Tartan was in full theater mode, dancing to her favourite song of the week, Magic Dance. Deep into her imagination, she threw her babydoll, Onion, into the air to mimic David Bowie on the screen while singing along.

"Alright, my wee Goblin King, time for dinner." He leaned over the back of the tartan sofa and kissed Aziraphale on the cheek. "Enjoying the show?"

Aziraphale chuckled. "Oh yes. We've only rewound this song about eleven times. I remind her each time that real babies shouldn't be thrown in the air."

"It's an important reminder. I'm sure Austen is relieved." He caressed the baby's hand and smiled wide when she held onto his finger. "Look at you. Wide awake, my tiny angel."

Aziraphale aimed the remote at the TV. Using the remote was for show. It didn't even have batteries and the telly wasn't plugged in. The movie paused. "Come along, time for your supper."

Tartan sighed. "One more t-time? Look, Daddy! Austen likes it. Watch." She waited for Aziraphale to rewind the song after he issued a "only once more" warning in the kindest stern voice. She pressed her face close to a wide-eyed Austen. "You remind me of the babe!" She looked to both of her parents and waited with her hands on her hips. "You have to say the next parts. Rewind please."

"Ah. It appears we are part of the show," Aziraphale said cheerfully. "You tell use what parts to say, Tartan. Is that alright?"

"Yup! Okay, put it on Papa. Make sure Austen is watching."

Aziraphale shifted Austen so she was a little more upright and facing Tartan. The infant let out a pleasant coo for her sister, who was making silly faces at her.

Tartan: "You remind me of the babe." She pointed at Crowley.
Crowley: "What Babe?"
Tartan: "Babe with the power." She pointed at Aziraphale.
Aziraphale: "What power?"
Tartan: "Power of voodoo." She tickled Austen.
Crowley: "Who do?"
Tartan: "You do."
Aziraphale: "Do what?"
Tartan: "Remind me of the babe!"

Tartan clapped. "G-good. You did good!"

"Well, I'm no stranger to a theatrical performance," Aziraphale said. He stopped the movie again. "No am I a stranger to supper, which we should get up and enjoy."

She pressed her nose to Austen's. The baby responded with a little smile. "She did her s-smile! Daddy! Papa!"

"Look at that beautiful smile," Crowley cooed. "You look like your sister."

"They both smile like their beautiful Mama," Aziraphale said softly, taking Crowley's hand for a kiss.

"Right. Well these beautiful smiles need to get to the kitchen for dinner before I turn the oldest one into a goblin."

Tartan howled with laughter. "I'm a goblin!" She ran out to the kitchen.

"Can I help ch-change her?" Tartan asked, swinging her legs from the edge of the bed.

It was well after dinner and not long after their dessert of pavlova. Tartan, freshly bathed and in pyjamas, had just sat not-quite-still for Crowley to braid her curly hair. Aziraphale had finished nursing Austen and was getting reading to change her nappy and her outfit, a bright blue babygrow with a print of yellow stars scattered all over. Tartan was always eager to help when she could and was over the moon when her parents said yes. With all of the careful consideration a four year old could muster, she changed Austen's nappy with very little input from either parent and only required a small amount of help getting wiggly baby arms into their sleeves.

"Can we sit outside to watch stars?" Tartan asked sweetly.

"It's rather chilly, my little darling. It's still only the beginning of April."

Tartan scrunched up her nose. "We have b-blankets and coats and hats, Papa," Tartan said, helpfully pointing out the obvious to clueless adults. "Me and Austen can share my dinosaur blanket!"

Crowley grinned and raised his eyebrow at Aziraphale. "We have blankets and coats and hats, Papa." He winked.

That is how the family ended up cuddled together on their porch sofa and chaise under several blankets. Tartan wore a warm dinosaur hat, knit in her favourite green by her Papa. Austen modelled another Aziraphale creation - a blue frog hat. Tartan insisted on hats for the adults, too, which found Aziraphale and Crowley in matching bright yellow ducks. The night air was streaked with cold, but also brought along smells and a certain mildness that promised warmth in the newly unfolding Spring.

Aziraphale snuggled Austen to his chest while listening to his husband answer at least a thousand star questions from Tartan.

"Those three stars make up the Spring Triangle," Crowley said softly to their daughter while pointing up at the sky. "We have Arcturus, Spica, and Denebola. Arcturus is much bigger than our Sun, but its so far away that it looks like a wee star."

"Whoa," breathed a fascinated Tartan.

"And there," Crowley pointed again. "That's Jupiter. This is the closest he'll be to earth all during the year. That's why he looks so bright."

"Hi, Jupiter!"

"How lucky we are to have our very own astronomers in the house," Aziraphale said to Austen, who was still quite wide awake. As if to answer, she gurgled at him.

"Can I hold her? I c-can help her fall asleep." She sat patiently while Aziraphale carefully placed Austen in her arms and wrapped them in their blankets. She rocked her and began to sing one of her favourite songs.

Austen looked up at her sister and cooed along with the song until her lids grew heavier and she began to doze. Tartan's song had worked it's magic. Aziraphale rans his fingers through Crowley's hair and they shared a smile made up of the pride they had for their family.

When it was time for Tartan to be tucked into bed, she had her own song request. "Can you s-sing me the Lady song? With the daddy words?" she asked while tucking Onion under her arm.

Crowley knelt on the floor next to her bed and pulled her covers up. "Of course, Bug." At some point in the last year, he had jokingly replaced some of the lyrics to Lady Stardust to make it sound like it was about Crowley rather than Marc Bolan. Tartan ate it up and it was one of her favourite requests for her nighttime lullaby.

Tartan giggled and sang along, kicking her feet under the covers.

"Alright, Bug." He tucked a curl that had escaped its braid behind her ear. "Time for some real sleep." He and Aziraphale leaned down for their hugs and kisses before turning on her star nightlight and saying good night.

Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves back out on the patio, enjoying the colder air under heavy blankets. A baby monitor show split screen videos of both sleeping children sat on the small coffee table next to a tray that carried now-empty mugs of hot cocoa and a plate full of crumbs from biscuits.

As he had earlier, Aziraphale stroked Crowley's hair, alternating with drawing circles on his scalp with fingertips. He looked up at the stars. "You know, when Tartan was singing to Austen, I thought of the night David Bowie died and how we came all the way to the South Downs and laid in the meadow with all of these stars above us."

"Well, that was January sky and this is the April sky and they have a few different features. You know, because of the whole revolving -"

Aziraphale laughed. "Alright, alright, my expert Starmaker. Let me be sentimental."

"Oh..right."

Aziraphale kissed his forehead. "As I was saying, that was a very hard day for us both for many different reasons."

"It was truly awful," Crowley agreed. "I just wanted a hug so badly. Everything felt so empty. I couldn't tell you then how much it meant to me that you just stayed with me, even though we had to leave everything unsaid and untouched. Knives were lacerating my brain, to quote Bowie."

"Well," Aziraphale began, adjusting his position so he could wrap Crowley in his arms, "I was happy to stay with you in spite of the danger to us back then. It wasn't easy to know how much you needed to be comforted and for me to be unable to hold you and to say the words I so badly wanted to express." He chuckled. "You may think me a bit silly, but every time I blew out smoke, I added a silent prayer to be taken up to the stars that you and I would be free someday. Free to be together and to express ourselves. I wished on every single star I could see."

Crowley kissed his hand, right over his wedding ring. "I don't think that's silly, Angel. In some way, I was doing the same thing. Sent my hope to the stars and whatever demonic faith I could muster that we'd have this someday. And here we are. No more knives."

"Here we are. Wishes answered. Hope won over the knives, my darling."

"Sometimes I think of the Crowley on that night. I didn't have a good time when I got back to my flat. The loneliness was especially heavy. I want to go back and tell him how it all turned out for us - that someday, he'd sing those Bowie songs to his children."

"And he wouldn't be alone anymore," Aziraphale added, tightening his arms around him, "and he gets all of the hugs he needs and more. He also gets a very soppy and corny husband." He began to hum.

"I love my soppy, corny husband."

"Oh good." Aziraphale began to sing.

Crowley turned his head and kissed his husband. "You really are the sweetest. I love you. Even if you are cheesy as anything, I still love you more than I can ever express."

Aziraphale went in for another kiss, deep and full of their love. "I love you, my dearest."

A shooting star blazed across the sky. "Maybe that's David Bowie himself," Aziraphale said. "I'm sure he enjoyed my singing."

"Maybe it was. David Bowie would be very happy for this Starmaker and his family, I think."

Aziraphale kissed him again. "You gave him the stars to sing about, even if they look very different today."