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“1800?” Crowley echoed Aziraphale’s latest suggestion. “Huh. How d’you figure that one?”
They were sprawled close together on the sofa, drinks and calendar near at hand as they brainstormed. Aziraphale shrugged. “That’s when the bookshop opened.”
“Obviously. What’s it got to do with how long we’ve been husbands, though?”
“It was the first time we officially put our names together.”
“‘Co,'” said Crowley, “is not my name.”
“You know what I mean!” Aziraphale huffed. “We opened a business together. Even if nobody else knew it was you.”
“You do realize business partners that aren’t husbands are a thing?” Crowley tapped his knee. “Anyway, if we’re just looking for partnership, that’d be the 20s.”
“We weren’t speaking then."
“1020s.”
“Oh, right. But we never wrote the Arrangement down,” Aziraphale pointed out. “That can’t be official.”
“There were official things before people even invented writing.”
“Not the Arrangement.”
“Why not?”
“Because there was nothing official about it! That was the whole point!”
“And there I was thinking there were some other good points, too,” Crowley teased. “Okay, okay. But who says this has to be official? We just need a date.”
“Hm,” Aziraphale conceded. “How about the Beginning? Our relationship started then. Surely you can’t argue with that.”
“No-o…” Crowley’s forehead creased, clearly searching for an argument. He found it. “But that was our first meeting. Marriages don’t happen just because you meet.”
“Maybe ours did.”
“Oy! Just because I fell for you like a—”
“The feeling was mutual, dear.”
“Ngk. Yes, fine, but falling for each other doesn’t mean we were husbands right away. I didn’t even figure it out for ages. And it’s not like we talked about it.”
“Well, if we’re going by when we figured it out, I didn’t until 1941. And we didn’t properly talk until the debaclypse—”
“1967?”
“Doesn’t count as talking.”
“Fair.” Crowley pouted. “But if we say Armageddidn’t, we’re newlyweds.”
Aziraphale bit his lip. “That’s… definitely not right.”
“Exactly.”
“...Rome?” Aziraphale suggested dubiously. “Oysters. First time eating together. That gives us a couple millennia.”
“Maybe. Could work…” Crowley frowned. “D’you remember the date, though? I don’t.”
Aziraphale furrowed his brow, sipped his neglected drink, and finally had to admit, “Ah. No.”
“So much for that.”
“I just thought it would be fun to celebrate our anniversary!” Aziraphale groaned. “I didn’t expect it to be this much work!”
Crowley sighed in sympathy. “At this rate, we should just get married for real. Would make things simpler.”
“Good idea. Weddings are even better than anniversaries.” Aziraphale checked their calendar. “Are you free Thursday? After lunch.”
“Let’s do it.”
The word WEDDING appeared on the calendar.
“...Now we’ll really be newlyweds,” Crowley realized. “Drat.”
“Oh well.” Aziraphale patted his hand. “We’ll just have to be blissfully in love for a while. Think you can manage it?”
Crowley grabbed the angel’s fingers, lifting them for a quick brush of the lips. “Sounds doable.”
There was a moment of silence.
“...Goodness,” said Aziraphale. “Does this mean we’re fiancés now?”