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When Crowley awoke, he found that Aziraphale was already up. He wasn't surprised, since Aziraphale was an early riser, while Crowley was the opposite.
He stretched before deciding to get up. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spotted his clothes and was surprised to see them perfectly folded on a chair, everything that made up his outfit neatly arranged.
After getting dressed, he went downstairs to find a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him on the table, even though he could see that Aziraphale wasn't in the bookshop. Next to the cup was a note written in the angel's elegant handwriting.
My dear Crowley,
A salesman contacted me this morning and I decided to take Muriel with me to show them another side of what I do here. I think we'll be home sometime this afternoon.
Don't forget you promised Maggie you'd visit her as she needs your services.
Yours.
Aziraphale.
Crowley was pleased to see that the daily newspaper was on the other side of the cup.
Aziraphale was thoughtful. Crowley already knew that. But that didn't stop him from being surprised by all the little gestures he had encountered this morning. He flipped through the paper while sipping his coffee, and when he'd finished, he stood and picked up his glasses, which were resting in their place on the small horse-shaped statue.
Out of habit, he was about to clean them, but found that they were already perfectly clean. He remembered a small smudge that had been there the day before, and that it was gone this morning.
Aziraphale's care again.
He left the bookshop and headed for Maggie's. As soon as he reached the record store, the blonde woman came up and greeted him, "Oh, Crowley, I'm glad you came. I... here's uh... a buyer wants to buy 5 record collections from me, and the problem is that if I have to have them delivered or take the train..."
"I'll take you." Crowley cut her off.
Maggie was quick to thank him, and a few moments later they were loading the Bentley with boxes of records, and as he closed the trunk of the car he noticed that it was spotlessly clean, and when he opened the door it was the same inside.
Once they were on the road, he was lost in thought, unable to stop thinking about all the angel's kind attentions he'd noticed since he'd woken up.
"Crowley?"
Maggie's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he hummed in response.
"Did I do something wrong to you?"
"What?"
The blonde woman continued, "Because it's been half an hour since we left town and you're not talking to me."
Crowley replied, "I've just been lost in thought."
Maggie, looking a little dubious, nodded.
Crowley gave her a sideways glance, then said casually, "Maggie, you and Nina seem to be relationship specialists. So let's say someone who is already very caring towards you shows you even more caring than usual by doing little things like, uh, I don't know, making your coffee, cleaning your glasses... that sort of thing."
Maggie seemed to think for a moment, then replied, "Well, the first reason I can think of is that they must love you very much. But as you seem to be saying, they're already a particularly thoughtful person, so it's either forgiveness or thanks."
Crowley muttered, "He has nothing to be forgiven for..."
Maggie, overhearing, replied, "Then it's to thank you. Probably because you're nice or you did something nice."
Crowley chuckled, "I'm not nice. Anyway, we're not talking about me."
Maggie nodded knowingly, "If you say so. It's amazing how similar you and Nina are. You both try so hard not to let anyone see who you really are. But you know, Crowley, I have a revelation for you. The ones who love you know who you really are. So no matter how hard you try to hide it, we know. That's why we sometimes resort to little tricks to thank you. You don't want our thanks, so we find another way to give them."
She paused and pointed to a house at the end of the street, "It's that way. We've arrived."
Crowley parked in front of the indicated house and when he started to get out to help Maggie get the boxes of records out, she stopped him, "It's okay, wait for me here, I'll be fifteen minutes."
Crowley nodded.
He couldn't stop thinking about what Maggie had just said. All the times he'd refused Aziraphale's gratitude under various pretenses.
"Well, you're lucky I was in the area."
The angel, his hands still bound by handcuffs, replied with a scowl, "I suppose I am. Why are you here?"
Crowley replied nonchalantly, "My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance."
Aziraphale, offended, retorted, "So all this is your demonic work?"
Crowley immediately replied, "No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me."
Then he simply snapped his fingers and the handcuffs opened and fell to the floor.
Aziraphale rubbed his wrists and said, "Well, I suppose I should thank you for the, uh, rescue."
Crowley stood and said aggressively through clenched teeth, "Don't say that," then, standing in front of the angel, he continued, "If my people hear I rescued an angel, I'll be the one in trouble. And my lot do not send rude notes."
Aziraphale replied, "Well, I'm very grateful. What if I buy you lunch?"
A knock on the car window snapped him out of his thoughts.
He saw that Maggie had returned as she got into the car and they drove home. The woman, probably sensing his need for silence, said nothing and smiled softly.
"Where are you?"
The demon, still under the effects of the laudanum, staggered and looked around for Aziraphale. The angel reached out and grabbed him, making him turn around, "I'm here. I'm here."
Then, holding him under his arm, he said softly, "That was very kind of you, Crowley. You saved that young woman."
Crowley pushed him away and said in a slightly aggressive voice, pointing his finger at the angel, "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum. Not responsible for my actions."
**********
As they stood in the ruins of the blown-up church, Aziraphale took off his hat and said gently to Crowley, "That was very kind of you."
The demon immediately replied, "Shut up."
Aziraphale insisted, "Well, it was. No paperwork, for a start." then suddenly, he exclaimed in horror, "Oh, the books. Oh, I forgot all the books! Oh, they'll all be blown to... "
Crowley bent down, snatched a bag from the hands of one of the nazis under the rubble and handed it to him. It was the angel's book bag.
He said softly, "Little demonic miracle of my own."
Then, without noticing the angel's look of amazement, he added as he walked away, "Lift home?"
Moments later, as the Bentley sped through the burning streets, Aziraphale turned to Crowley and said softly, "You know... that was a very nice thing you did for me."
The demon turned his head toward him and replied, just as he had the first time, "Shut up."
Aziraphale, always insistent, replied, "There must be something I can do for you in return."
The demon didn't take his eyes off the road and said, "Forget it, will you?"
*********
As gunfire replaced paintball outside, Aziraphale approached the demon and said softly, "You know, Crowley, I've always said that deep down, you really are quite a nice..."
He was interrupted by the demon, who grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pinned him against the wall, almost spitting in his face, "Shut it! I'm a demon. I'm not nice. 'm never nice. Nice is a four-letter word.I will not have-"
*********
Lost in thought, he was unaware that they had arrived.
Maggie turned to him and said softly, "You know, Crowley, it always comes back to what Nina and I told you that day. You need to talk. You just have to ask him."
Then she put her hand on his arm and continued, "Anyway, thank you for today, you didn't have to, but you did me this favor. Thank you for your kindness."
Crowley was about to protest when she just raised an eyebrow, so he sighed and replied, "You're welcome."
As she got out of the car, she said as gently as ever, "See, this is how easy it is."
A few moments later, Crowley entered the bookshop and was immediately greeted by Aziraphale who walked up to him, kissed him on the cheek and said softly, "Hello, my dear, how did it go with Maggie?"
As he asked this, the angel removed Crowley's glasses and placed them on the horse-shaped statue.
Crowley told him about his little journey, and when he was finished, the angel remarked, "Anyway, it's very kind of you to do this for Maggie."
Aziraphale paused, as if expecting the demon's usual denial. But instead, Crowley asked him, "Does it bother you that I never let you thank me or tell me I am nice?"
As they talked, they came to the sofa where they sat down together, and turning to him, Aziraphale replied quietly, "Only because every time, it makes me feel like you think you don't deserve it."
Crowley asked, "And all those little gestures today? Was that to thank me, too?"
Aziraphale gently put his hand on the demon's knee and replied, "For that, and also because sometimes small attentions are more proof of love than grand gestures. Like removing a paint stain from a coat, or salvaging books from the ruins of an explosion."
"I get it," the demon murmured.
Aziraphale tenderly touched the demon's cheek and asked, "Would you let me thank you?"
Crowley nodded slowly and Aziraphale leaned toward him before gently pressing his lips to the demon's right cheek and whispering, "Thank you for rescuing me from my cell in the Bastille," then kissing the other cheek, he whispered, "Thank you for saving my books."
He then kissed Crowley's left eyelid and whispered, "Thank you for getting the stain off my jacket."
He did the same with the left eyelid and whispered, "Thank you for coming to my rescue every time I called or not."
Then, cupping the demon's face between his hands, Aziraphale looked into his eyes and said, "You are kind, Crowley, and you deserve to be thanked for all your kindness."
He pressed his mouth gently to Crowley's, pouring into his kiss all the gratitude and love he felt for his kind demon.
When he pulled away, Crowley wrapped his arms around him and held him close. Then, his mouth in his hair, he whispered, "You're welcome."
Against him, Aziraphale sighed in contentment, happy that for once the demon had simply accepted the gratitude he deserved.
Because he deserved it.