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After the Armageddon't, Aziraphale had noticed Crowley had been spending more time at his bookshop and he was really grateful for that since it meant they could spend even more time together.
So, the angel had decided that offering some alcohol, a place to sloucher on and a random chat weren't enough, even if everything was rather pleasant.
He wanted to make his place a bit more homely to his lovely companion.
At first, he had let Crowley dust some shelves and organise some of the book stands (in a manner that would confuse the potential customers).
Then, Aziraphale remembered what he saw the night before their attempted executions at the demon's flat: plants.
Lots of gorgeous plants.
The angel thought he could try with just one plant: after all, he had disguised himself as a gardener for many years.
Aziraphale, after he put his jacket and coat on, hurried to the closest garden and flower shop: he was amazed by the ample assortment of plants and he was a bit intimidated by the choice. To make the matter worse, the angel wasn't completely sure about his knowledge about the floriography, the language of flowers (especially since he feared his data were a bit outdated, since they dated back to Victorian times).
Luckily for Aziraphale, he wasn't alone: the shop owner listened to his story and assistested him, showing plant after plant until the angel's attention was picked by some lovely heart-shaped leaves.
"Oh, that's a nice choice! - the shopkeeper mused - It's an Anthurium. In the language of flowers it means hospitality, which couldn't be more perfect for your situation than this. Unless…"
The angel didn't either catched the last few words or didn't notice what the owner was pointing to, enchanted by the glossiness of the dark leaves: it was really perfect.
"Oh, I'll take this one," Aziraphale said with a bright smile. "Could you put it in a fancier pot, please? That black glazed terracotta pot would be lovely."
The shop owner smiled the whole time because was sure the colour was no coincidence.
When Aziraphale came back to his bookshop, he put the plant in his back room (he didn't want the customers to have the strange idea that they were welcomed there) where, according to instructions, the angel watered the plant.
"You're so beautiful: I'll try to take care of you the best I can," Aziraphale whispered, caressing some leaves, "because I hope Crowley could appreciate you as much as I do."
Somehow, after that praise, the plant looked even greener and shinier than before. Hidden by the leaves, something grew by an inch too.
The angel was called back by the little door bell and skillfully avoided selling any book for a couple of hours, sometimes keeping an eye on the new plant and, sometimes telling it something about his lovely demon.
At six, when finally the shop was closed for everyone but one being, the plant was recollocated on the angel's table next to the cash register.
The angelic cunning plan worked brilliantly and Crowley immediately noticed the addition.
With a huge grin on his face (and some blush on his cheeks) he said: "That's a great choice, angel, it looks great. I could help you with that, if you want some tips or help."
Aziraphale beamed at that idea and proposed a toast, hurrying to the next room to retrieve something drinkable while Crowley hissed something to the plant.
Obviously, "a toast" became many of them and they happily got drunk together while unsuccessfully looking for a name for that plant.
The next morning, after they had their late breakfast next to their plant, the angel and the demon finally noticed there was something strange between the leaves which was literally growing by the hour.
"I had many plants like this Anthurium but it never happened to me," Crowley said, looking suspiciously at the two globules on the sticks. "To be fair, many of those didn't last long."
"They look like leaves," the angel noticed, poking at them with his pen, "but the colours are strange: one is red and the other is white!"
Crowley and Aziraphale came closer and closer until the "two leaves" opened with a loud pop, sprinkling them with some pollen.
Two heart-shaped flowers were in front of their dusted noses: one was white and one was red.
"Nkg… …I may have threatened the plant that it shouldn't disappoint you because I wanted to see you happy and…" Crowley admitted.
Aziraphale blushed vividly: "I think the plant may have also noticed my affection for you."
Crowley grumbled: "That bastard could have done it in a less flashy way!"
"But it was nice of it," the angel giggled while he cleaned the demon's face with his handkerchief from the pollen.
The demon smirked: "I think we have a name for our plant."
Crowley and Aziraphale, smiling in unison, said: "Nice Bastard!"