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Crowley was frantic. This could not be happening. He had gotten through floods, plagues, volcanic eruptions, revolutions, two bloody world wars with nary a hair out of place but this…this might just be too much for him.
It had all begun just as planned. He had been at the agreed upon meeting place on time (well, fifteen minutes late but who was counting), had accepted the basket and supplies and carried it all home. His flat had been prepared. Crowley had set the basket down on his desk and settled down to wait.
A day later, the chaos had begun. Soft, cracking sounds could be heard from within the basket. Single, barely audible cracks spaced out over half an hour, then more and more, faster and faster. Crowley had held his breath as he peeked into the basket and eight curious eyes met his. His heart had beat a little faster and he had smiled softly.
~*~
Aziraphale arrived at Crowley’s flat in more of a rush than he usually did. The demon had sounded positively panicked on the phone when he had asked him for help. That, in and off itself, was already extraordinary. Oh, Crowley certainly got the angel to help him when needed, but Aziraphale could count the number of times Crowley had outright asked on one hand. Thus, Aziraphale had dropped everything, ushered a potential customer out of the shop while feigning regret and caught a cab to Mayfair.
Crowley opened the door immediately after Aziraphale rang the doorbell and dragged him inside. After regaining his composure, the angel looked around the hallway. The flat was so uncomfortably hot and humid that he began taking off his coat as he took in his friend’s appearance. Crowley looked far from his normal self and closer to one of the street corner prophets he sometimes passed in the city. Several strands of his shoulder-length hair had slipped from the bun at the back of his head, some were plastered to his forehead, some flying about at odd angles. His butter yellow eyes were wild, the skin around them tight, his lips looked worryworn and bitten. The oddest thing to Aziraphale however, was that Crowley sported a couple of days’ worth of stubble. The demon never allowed his vessel to grow stubble. He would cultivate an immaculately kept beard when it was fashionable or when the fancy struck him but never this wild, unkempt growth of hair on his face.
Aziraphale folded his coat over his arm and looked at his friend. “Crowley, what is going on? What do you need my help with?”
Crowley threw his arms up in frustration and rushed into an answer, talking at lightspeed. “It’s a disaster, Angel. I don’t know what I was thinking! Well, I was thinking, it shouldn’t be that hard, right? I know what they need! I’ll just watch them for a bit until they figure out what to do with them. Got them the cozy basket and snacks and water and music and everything and I turn around and whoop! They’re everywhere! And they’re gone! And I don’t know if I closed the bedroom window fast enough or if they can fit under the door or- “
Aziraphale blinked and caught Crowley’s wildly gesturing hands in his, calling his name to interrupt the demon. He mentally untangled the jumble of words that Crowley had just thrown at him, trying to make sense of it.
“Okay, first things first, my dear,” the angel said, holding Crowley’s agitated gaze, “I need you to take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth, if you please.”
Crowley started to protest. “We don’t have time for this and I don’t need to-“
“I know you don’t need to breath, dear, just do it for me, please.” Aziraphale urged gently but firmly, squeezing Crowley’s hands. The demon looked down at their joined hands before doing as he was asked. “Good, again please.” After a couple of deep breaths, Aziraphale nodded with a small smile. “Alright, now, I think you better start from the beginning. Who are ‘they’, what do you mean when you say they are lost and why is it like the rainforest in here?” He let go of Crowley’s hands in order to unbutton and take of his vest before rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt.
Crowley looked away from him and ran his hand through his hair. “Right, well, about a week ago I saw a notice in the window of the pet shop around the corner, looking for somebody to foster snake babies. Somebody had found the eggs and dropped them off at the shop. And with us not getting any assignments from the head offices anymore, I thought, why not, I have time, they’re snakes,” he exclaimed, gesturing at himself. “Anyway, they hatched uhm…three days ago I think, and it was fine. I fed them and they seemed happy enough, not very chatty but then they are still babies.”
Aziraphale nodded in understanding, he had a good idea where Crowley’s story was going. The demon turned around and walked down the hallway, Aziraphale following him patiently.
“Turns out they are very lively though, went exploring almost immediately. When I got up this morning, Lou was the only one left in the basket, the rest of them had just slithered off somewhere. I couldn’t find them all and I was worried and…well.” He gestured at Aziraphale, looking defeated. As he slumped into his throne, the angel smiled at him, feeling a little relieved.
He stepped up to the large wicker basket that was still sitting on the beautiful desk and peeked inside. He murmured a quiet ‘hello’ and carefully reached in, letting the snakes’ tongues flicker against his finger. One of them curled around his hand and he brought it out into the light to take a closer look at it. “Look at you, you are beautiful,” he told the dark green reptile which was lazily wrapping its tail around his wrist. The scales on its back were hunter green while the underside was a soft mint. It had a yellow collar pattern around its neck, scales just a couple shades lighter than Crowley’s eyes. The snake seemed to preen in the angel’s palm at his continued praise.
Crowley cleared his throat, bringing Aziraphale’s attention back to the task at hand. “Right,” the angel said, hand still absentmindedly running over the snake’s scales as he looked at Crowley. The demon watched for a moment before blinking and looking at Aziraphale.
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “There are fourteen of them in all. That one is Lou. He’s been very well-behaved, contrary to his brothers and sisters.” Aziraphale quickly suppressed a smile and looked back inside the basket. Six pairs of reptilian eyes looked back up at him. He gently put Lou back in the basket and closed the lid. He clasped his hands together and turned around, sizing up the room. After an angelic gesture, one of the walls found itself moved a little further back and lined by two orderly rows of individual snake habitats, the seven snakes from the basket each already inhabiting one. Aziraphale turned back to Crowley.
“I suggest the following: first off, since they appear to be perfectly normal British grass snakes that do not require a tropic climate, please lower the temperature and the awful humidity in here.” Crowley’s cheeks took on a rosy tint as the demon muttered that he liked heat but the air in the flat became much more pleasant right away. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief and gave Crowley an indulgent smile. “Secondly, find the seven missing snakes. You said you fed them, so they are unlikely to be food motivated. We’re going to have to go about finding them the human way, I think. I don’t feel entirely comfortable summoning them without ever having seen them. I wouldn’t want to accidentally hurt them.” Crowley’s nod told him that the demon had not used his powers for the same reason. “Shall I start in here and you start in the kitchen?”
They set off, each tackling a room. Before long Aziraphale had transferred Angus, Nina and Nico into their new homes, while Crowley had managed to fish John and Sterling out from under the kitchen sink. June was found hiding in between Crowley’s plants, almost perfectly camouflaged in the lush greenery. The sun was setting over the London skyline, when all the was left was one wayward snake named Brian that had to be somewhere in the bedroom. Crowley and Aziraphale stood side by side and looked around the room. A ridiculously large bed sat in the center of the room, covered by black and scarlet sating sheets. A black metal nightstand, a low sideboard that sat against the wall, otherwise the room was bare.
Aziraphale shrugged. “At least there aren’t many hiding places in here.” As Crowley started to walk, Aziraphale stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Let me just try something, please.” With a thought and his habitual snap of two fingers, he levitated the furniture of the room a foot of the ground. Hectic movement from under the sideboard caught both of their eyes. Crowley hissed at the fleeing snake and snatched it off the floor. He raised it eye-level and hissed at it some more. Aziraphale set the furniture back into place and watched with an amused glint in his eye. Crowley rarely let his reptilian side show, every now and then, he stretched out hissing sounds in words when he was drunk or very, very angry.
Crowley caught him looking and stopped hissing immediately. He muttered under his breath and stalked back out of the bedroom to quickly but gently set the last escapee into his terrarium. He let out a sigh and stood in front of the glass tanks for a minute, looking over his fosterlings, hands shoved into his pockets. Aziraphale busied himself with pouring out drinks, ambling over to the demon’s side. Crowley accepted the glass with a nod, clinking it against Aziraphale’s. “Here’s to a successful rescue mission.” Aziraphale smiled and took a sip, whisky sending pleasant warmth through his body.
“What are you going to do with them?”
Crowley huffed and slinkywalked over to his throne, dropping into it, eyes on the snakes again. “Well, I’m not going to keep them. I suppose I’ll give them back to the shop.”
Aziraphale walked over to him, leaning his backside against the desk. “Oh good, you shouldn’t keep them, really. It’s a protected species. They should be released. They need to learn to hunt their own food and deal with predators if they are going to survive out there.”
Crowley lookws at him speculatively. “How do you know so much about snakes?”
Aziraphale tsks. “Really, Crowley. I run a bookshop and the most important person in my universe it at least partially reptilian, of course I know about snakes.” Aziraphale lets out a slightly exasperated sigh before flushing a delightful shade of red. He splutters for a moment before plunging on. “How do you know so little about snakes? You are one! You were responsible for the snake worship back in Egypt!”
Crowley carefully set his glass down on the desk, staring at it as if he was bracing himself for a moment. Then he stood up quickly, the movement bringing him close to Aziraphale, so close their knees were touching. “Most important person in the universe?” He murmurs, amber eyes meeting cerulean, open and hopeful.
Aziraphale swallowed audibly. “Well, surely you must know that, darling.” One of his hands blindly set down the glass behind him, the other coming up to smooth a flyaway lock of fiery hair behind Crowley’s ear. For a moment that seemed like an eternity neither of them moved. Crowley’s lips twitched into a smile.
“Would you like to coparent them, Angel?” He asked, tongue sneaking out nervously to lick his lips as his hands come to rest on Aziraphale’s chest. Blue eyes flickered down to those lips for a moment before meeting Crowley’s gaze again. The angel smiled brightly at him.
“Yes, I would love that,” he whispered before letting out a nervous, shaky breath and leaning in to gently brush his mouth against Crowley’s. The demon made a keening sound in the back of his throat and pulled Aziraphale closer, arms wrapping around him.
When they pulled back, foreheads resting against each other, both were flushed and breathing heavily. For a long while they just held each other, soft kisses snuck in, hands exploring hesitantly.
Crowley opened is eyes and met his angel’s. “Stay?” He whispered, apprehensively.
Aziraphale chuckled, leaning back a little bit. His smile was bright enough to light up a small village. “Yes.” Crowley mirrored his smile and swooped in for another kiss.
~*~
Soon after their successful rescue mission, they took the Bentley, enlarged by only a minor miracle, and drove south. The sprawling, bustling city gave way to the lush countryside, sweeping green hills and quaint little villages. Aziraphale soaked in the beauty of the landscape, hand resting on Crowley’s thigh.
It was early afternoon when Crowley found a spot he liked that Aziraphale approved of as well. Together they miracled the transport boxes out of the car and onto the grass. One by one, Crowley opened the boxes, petting each snake a last time and hissing softly as they slithered towards to edge of the forest. If, as the last one disappeared into the tall weeds, Crowley’s hisses were a little chocked up, nobody but Aziraphale was there to hear. And he would never tell.
With a snap, the boxes dissolved. Aziraphale came to stand beside Crowley, taking his hand. The demon gave him a wobbly smile which the angel readily returned, no less wobbly, definitely teary.
“Let’s go home, darling.”