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"Very well... you're on the right track, little one", Crowley murmured as he sprayed a little water on one of the plants.
Then he looked around to make sure he hadn't missed any, when his eyes fell on Muriel's little plant. He approached it and examined it closely. Then, with a teasing smile on his lips, he walked over to Muriel, who was engrossed in a book as usual, and said, "Are you sure your plant is all right? I noticed a slight discoloration on one of the leaves."
Muriel raised their head and, looking very serious, replied, "I know, and I'm taking care of it. It's between me and my plant." Then, without waiting for a reply, they resumed their reading.
Crowley laughed slightly, inwardly pleased to see the little bee gaining a little more confidence each day, then turned to Aziraphale, who was sitting at his desk.
He put his hand on Angel's shoulder and said softly, "Angel, I'm going to get my paper and then go to Nina's for coffee, do you want me to bring you anything?"
Aziraphale looked up at him and, unable to hide the pleasure in his voice, replied, "Whatever cake she has today."
The demon nodded, smiling with amusement, and turned to Muriel, "And you, Muriel, a cappuccino as usual?"
Muriel hummed in response, not even lifting their head from their book, provoking another amused laugh from Crowley, who said, "You're turning into a real bookworm."
Muriel replied, "It's not like you don't know what it's like to live with one."
This time it was Aziraphale who laughed as Crowley left the bookstore.
The angel watched the demon as he entered the Newsagency, then a few seconds later watched him enter the coffee shop with the newspaper under his arm.
Aziraphale realized that this had become something of a routine over the past few days.
A routine.
The word almost took his breath away.
They were far from ordinary people, but just having something that resembled ordinary habits, like all humans, was enough to thrill him.
The ringing of the doorbell snapped him out of his thoughts as Crowley returned.
He watched as the demon waved the capuccinno in front of Muriel's nose until they grabbed it, thanked him, set it down beside them, and continued their reading.
Then Crowley walked over to him, placed a plate of two cinnamon rolls on his desk, planted a light kiss on his temple, then plopped down on the sofa and began reading his newspaper.
Aziraphale grabbed one of the pastries and began to eat it, his mind elsewhere, unable to concentrate on his current "work".
"Angel, can you believe it, a cat traveled over 500 miles, stuck in the grill of a Welsh cab for days!"
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile, for it was often the most outlandish news that caught Crowley's attention.
Crowley, apparently not expecting a response, continued to leaf through his newspaper without looking up.
A few moments later, Aziraphale had just finished the second cinnamon roll and still had no desire to resume his study of that old manuscript.
He called softly, "Crowley?"
Crowley lowered his paper and answered, "Yes, Angel?"
Aziraphale asked, "Would you like to take a walk in the park?"
Crowley raised an eyebrow, "You got nothing else to do?"
The angel frowned, wondering why the demon would ask him that, and shook his head as he replied, "No."
Crowley gave him a knowing look as he replied, "Okay," then nodded and stood.
"Let's go."
Crowley grabbed his glasses and they walked together to the door of the bookshop.
Aziraphale had a feeling he'd said something wrong, but he didn't know what, and that sensation stayed with him all the way to Saint James Park in the Bentley.
They had been walking through the park in silence for some time, and Aziraphale had no idea how to break it.
Out of habit, they sat down on their usual bench facing the lake, and after a few moments, Aziraphale decided to clear the air, if there was anything to clear.
"Crowley, are you..."
"Angel, are you -"
They both paused and laughed awkwardly. Then Aziraphale said softly, "You first."
Crowley hesitated, then asked, "Did you suggest this walk because you were bored?"
Aziraphale, perplexed, asked, "What?"
Crowley explained, "Well, you said you had nothing else to do..."
Aziraphale protested vehemently, "Yes, but I meant that I have no duties that require my attention, it wasn't as a consolation prize that I asked you to walk around with me. How could you think that I want to spend time with you because I'm bored..."
He paused as the words left his mouth, Crowley's words at the coffee shop echoing in his mind.
“You have three reasons for calling me: you’re bored, you need to tell someone about something clever you did before you pop, or something’s wrong.”
Then he understood what had prompted Crowley's question and reaction.
He took his hand and asked gently, "You know, when you told me the three reasons I called you, did that bother you?"
Crowley immediately denied it, much too quickly for Aziraphale's taste, who gently insisted, "Crowley, my dear, no more lies to avoid hurting the other, remember."
Crowley sighed and admitted, "Let's just say I was glad you called, but sometimes I wish you'd just call me, you know, so we could go to a restaurant together, or I could come to the bookshop for a drink. Just not because you were bored."
Aziraphale smiled and replied, "We're so good at hiding what we think might hurt or upset the other person that we end up not realizing that's exactly what we're doing."
At the demon's confused look, he continued, "Saying 'I'm bored' is such a convenient excuse. When all I wanted to do was see you, because going to a restaurant, having a drink, even going to the theater doesn't have much taste or interest without you. My life is a lot less interesting when you're not in it."
Crowley nodded, "Same here, Angel. I didn't want to bother you by telling you that I live in my car, or come across as clingy by hanging around the bookstore all the time, so I came here to read my newspaper alone, watch the ducks and the people and the spies, all the while thinking it would be a lot more entertaining with you around."
He nudged the angel's shoulder and continued, "We really were fools, struggling with ourselves when, in the end, we wanted the same thing."
Aziraphale nodded, laughing slightly.
Crowley, resting his arm casually on the back of the bench behind Aziraphale's back, asked, "So, what do you feel like doing now?"
The angel leaned against Crowley's arm, the movement causing the demon to wrap it around his shoulder, and replied with a smile, "Well, for now, just stay like this, laugh at spies, and listen to you berate people who throw bread at ducks. And then maybe have some ice cream and then..."
Crowley interrupted, "By the way, did you know that female ducks choose their favorite males to mate with based on their ability to dance? So I wonder, Angel, was your ball to test me?"
Aziraphale bit his lip, but couldn't resist for long and burst out laughing, causing several people to turn around.
Then the angel turned serious again and replied, "First of all, it's a good thing I didn't choose you for your dancing ability..."
"Hey!"
Aziraphale chuckled and continued, "And then you were my favorite person a very long time ago, so I don't need any kind of test to know that."
He dropped his head to the demon's shoulder, who pressed a light kiss to his hair before asking, almost shyly, "How long?"
Aziraphale smiled and replied softly, "Since you protected me from a shower of stars."
After a few moments of silence, Aziraphale turned his head toward the demon and noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed.
With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he asked, "Say, is there a fun fact about ducks blushing?"
Crowley pulled him close and replied, "Shut up, smartass."
Aziraphale couldn't keep from laughing again, and when he calmed down, the demon whispered into his hair, "That's all I wanted, you know?"
"What?"
Crowley replied gently, "You and me, here, acting like idiots, for no reason, doing nothing but doing it together."
Aziraphale hummed and they stayed that way, intertwined on their bench. It didn't take long for Crowley to admonish the next passerby who threw bread at the ducks, for Aziraphale to spot the ice-cream parlor, and to dismiss the spy who had mistakenly gone to the wrong bench when Crowley went to get the ice cream.
In the end, it was nothing extraordinary, but it was precious to them because they did it together.