Chapter Text
"do you have anymore thoughts about the wedding, my dear?"
Crowley glared at the angel, "Not a church."
Aziraphale laughed, "Of course not. How about cake?"
"I said you can do it, angel."
"Hm. What about invites? Who do we send those to?"
"Anyone we like."
"But that's just my point. Who do we like?"
"I liked Warlock."
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look, "-And how are we supposed to invite the Dowlings without drawing attention to the idea we are not, in fact, who we claimed to be?"
The demon held his head high, "I'll find a way."
"Fine. Who else, then?"
"No. It's your turn, Angel."
"Alright. How about Anathema and her boyfriend?"
"Book girl? Of course you'd choose her."
"And what is wrong with Anathema?"
"Nothing, she's just..your kind of person."
"And what is that?"
"Interested in books, openminded, sensible, opinionated."
"Ah. Yes. I believe so, she does seem rather nice, doesn't she?"
Crowley sighed, "Sure. Now, my turn. I choose.." he thought for a long time, "I choose..er-" He didn't want to admit it, but his pool of friends was limited to one.
"Yes, my dear?"
Another sigh, "I choose.."
Aziraphale was staring at him, perhaps coming to the conclusion that he had no idea who to choose, and then spoke up, "How about Adam Young?"
"The Antichrist?"
"Yes. He seemed like a rather nice young man. And it would be nice for Warlock to have others his age there."
"Yeah. We could invite those friends of his, too."
"Of course." Aziraphale conjured a list of those they had currently,
"Who else?"
"I don't know. Ask that infernal goggler."
Crowley rolled his eyes, "Google, angel."
"Yes. That."
The demon pulled out his phone, and typed in 'who to invite to a wedding'.
"It has a list of family members, and then it's friends. But we don't have families, so.."
Aziraphale had an idea, "Don't we, my dear?"
Crowley frowned, "No."
"Are you sure?"
The demon must've noticed Aziraphale's expression, as realisation dawned on his face, "Oh. Oh."
The angel grinned, "Quite."
-
By the end of the afternoon, all of the invitations had been signed, sealed, and delivered. And Aziraphale had not stopped flapping about it,
"Did we do the right thing, my dear?"
"Probably not."
"You're not useful."
"Nor are you, you won't stop pacing."
"I can't help it!"
"Neither can I. Come on, have a drink with me."
"What type?"
"..Gotcha. Help me choose, come on."