Chapter Text
Crowley is a delighted man. for the lack of better words.
He’s got his lot back, ten times the amount of plants now that he’s got his own shop and they are all chillingly thriving, and most of all, indefinitely the best, he's got his angel. For real now. He was able to call Aziraphale his and vice versa, officially. He still thinks it ridiculous that they had to wait for Beelzebub and that damned Archangel to do it. To have to rely on their fate they got for their relationship to foretell their own was senseless by all means.
If Crowley could have, he would have been so much more bolder all those years ago. He could care less what anyone had to say about or to them, he would have risked it all. But alas, Aziraphale cared. He cared too much about too many things and it was always a setback, but Crowley admired him all the more and he would stay beside him until they were ready for time to end. Even if it meant just keeping close as they had always been for the rest of time.
None of that didn't matter now, though. None of it did. It was just them and only them now. Crowley and Aziraphale. Aziraphale and Crowley. No one watching from afar, no one throwing around orders, and certainly no more attempts at ending their world. They would stay like this until the end of time.
Until Aziraphale cared too much again.
The morning started off splendidly for Aziraphale. He’d done his daily BAT (Book and Tea routine, merely just him making tea and reading a book at 5:00 am for an hour and thirty minutes. Crowley found his acronyms annoying, but in Aziraphale’s defense, he has recently taken a liking to abbreviations, and they’ve been a great help lately!) He also got a brand new necktie. He thought he would switch his style up just a bit and he was quite excited to know Crowley’s verdict on this grande little change.
Ruining his frivolous little daze, were knocks–No, loud beating at the door of the little corner bookshop. It gave Aziraphale quite a scare.
The bookshop was closed, you don’t knock on the door of a closed book shop, certainly not in that manner. Maybe it was simply naughty children, ‘Ding-Ditching Dong’ or whatever they called it. Still, it was rude. Quite rude. But Aziraphale thought he’d handle it later, there was much to do and pap– BOOM BOOM BOOM
⠀...⠀
Right, that will be enough of that. Aziraphale stood up from his desk and went around the front counter. He looked outside of the window on the door, what had he expected? Of course no one would be there. He opened the door anyway and peeked out. Aziraphale immediately felt the pressure of the air, causing him to quint.
It was September meaning the air was only preparing everyone for the coming of winter, Aziraphale’s most favorite time of the year, he would add. Still, why in the world would anyone want to play like that in such weather? With the shake of his head and a scoff underneath his tongue, he was about to shut the door until he caught a glimpse of something below him, evidently a basket. With a small square shaped note atop it.
Aziraphale, brows furrowed in oddity, bends down and picks up the note. It was blank, until he turned it around:
Take care :)
Take care?
Aziraphale slowly stood, worriedly scanning the area once more, it was morning, the streets are usually too busy at this time of day. Crowley most certainly would not be up. What?
“Ah, Mr. Fell! Good morning!” The shrill voice of Maggie called from across the street, followed by an ecstatic wave.
“Maggie! Good morning… say, you didn’t happen to notice anyone coming by my door? No children or anyone, perhaps?”
“Children? In this weather? Lord, no. Even if there were someone that came by, I'd likely miss it. I've been helping Nina all morning, she’s keeping me quite busy. Is that a new tie? Oh, you look marvelous, Mr. Fell!” Maggie would have continued, if not for the shout of ‘Angel!’ , which was presumably Nina. “Oh–there she is. Well, you take care now, Mr. Fell!” And off inside of the cafe she went.
“Yes. Precisely…” Azirphale mutters, regarding the suspicious basket once more, still twisting the note in his hand. He would not just take it inside, it could have been anything. But the decoration of the basket did seem quite promising, it couldn’t have been anything terribly bad.
Aziraphale bends down and slowly lifts the flap of the basket and it turns out to be… a baby? His eyes widened. Oh dear, a baby! He immediately lifts the basket by its handle and carries it inside. He couldn’t believe he wasted so much time out there when they could have caught a terrible cold, babies are much more fragile than anyone thinks.
He sets the basket on top of the counter.
Now, he panics.
Variant questions of who, what, why, when, and how entangled in his head as he paced. Maybe he shouldn’t panic now. Yes, calm down, we will check on the baby first, making sure it is unharmed and healthy, then we call Crowley. He’ll know what to do. He won’t like being woken up, but he’ll have plenty of time to sleep when they figure this out.
⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀
Aziraphale does end up tending to the child. They somehow remained asleep through all the rummaging and moving Aziraphale did all the while holding them but they were nonetheless healthy and certainly unharmed.
Aziraphale finally phones Crowley, it rang and rang until finally, it went through.
“Crowley!” He yelps, but immediately regrets it, remembering the still sleeping youth in his arms. They stir just a bit.
“Aziraphale.” Answered a groggy, low voice. “It’s still eight in the morning. You better be dying.”
“Crowley, I need your help. Something’s happened. Get here, quickly now!”
“ Grgh . Five minutes.” The phone hangs up. Aziraphale smiles.
While he waits, he hears a tiny coo. The baby was waking up, blinking its eyes as if to get used to the newly exposed lighting. Immediately, Aziraphale goes to shut every window closest to him and then goes to sit on the sofa, waiting patiently for the baby to gain their sense of consciousness, missing the way his heart would stutter at the child's waking efforts.
Finally, the child makes steady eye contact with Aziraphale, and the smile that comes to his face is uncontrollable.
“Hello there, small one. How did you come to be on my doorstep?” He asks, as if the child would answer him back. He knows they won’t, with its wide eyes. Not a thought behind those orbs, are there? He finds himself thinking.
Breaking the spell, the child starts to wail.
⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀
The first thing Crowley notices upon arrival is the basket resting next to the register. He assumes it belongs to Aziraphale and walks right past it in search of the angel.
“Angel!” He shouts, but before he could come past Aziraphales desk, he double takes on the tiny sleeping being on the couch, cradled in blankets on top of a pillow. He doesn’t move. Not even when he hears Aziraphale come in from behind him.
“Level your tone! They’ve finally went back to sleep, don’t wake them.”
“What is ‘it’?” It was very obviously a baby and Crowley knew this, and perhaps Crowley would have been more understanding if it was human. But this was not a warm blooded being, it looked like it, but it certainly was not . And Crowley immediately took guard, boring his eyes into the potential threat.
“I don’t know! They just… they came in a basket.”
“A basket? You mean that basket there?” Crowley points to said basket and Aziraphale nods.
It is now when Crowley examines the wicker basket, and he doesn't like the realization he comes to. The white lining, the bow in the center that looks an awful lot like wings, and the satin material that seemed to be the bed of the inside. It was all simplistic, white, and fucking angelic .
“Crowley?” Aziraphale calls, nervous at the demon's silence.
“Angel,” Crowley turns to Aziraphale, his voice low and edging, “Look at that basket and tell me you see what I see.”
“What exactly do you see, Crowley? The basket is not important now, the child is what we should worry about right now, I should think.”
“Not important? The damn basket gives it away! That there–” Crowley points at the slumbering baby, “ Is an Angel. ”
“Oh, Crowley, that's nonsense.” Aziraphale laughs, “They may not be human, but they are certainly no Angel, and I would have noticed immediately.”
“Yeah? Would you?”
“Positively sure.” Aziraphale dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the note that was on the basket. “This came with it. ‘Take care’.” He revealed the note to Crowley, who cringed at how close it was to him.
“So you took in a basket, very clearly decorated, with an Angel inside and a note that says Take Care followed by a smiling face?” Crowley was continuously becoming frustrated. They were supposed to be left alone now. By all parties, but of course, seven years later, they still couldn’t catch a break. He couldn’t even blame Aziraphale, no matter how oblivious he was. Speaking of, Aziraphale was suspiciously quiet.
“I… well I see what you mean. I do! But what else was I supposed to do? I could not just leave the child out there.”
“Oh, you certainly could have.”
Before Azirphale could get his word out, he heard the absurdly loud cry of the baby.
“Look what you’ve done!” Crowley threw his hands in the air but Aziraphale was already rushing off to calm the child. The demon shook his head in disbelief, trying to recite the entire situation in his head. Something was Up. What were they planning, and why, why couldn’t they just let them be and let them live solemnly in retirement.
Crowley knew they should have just moved somewhere across the world, completely off of the radar, apart from any and everybody. Now they have to deal with this.
Although, Crowley couldn’t help but be reminded by the ‘Gabriels-Disappeared' situation, and that was what set it off. He will not have his Angels life potentially threatened once again because he was too much of a softie to just simply say no, ignore, and move on.
The creature, angel, baby or whatever it was had to go.
The sound of its piercing cry liked to have driven Crowley insane. He watched warily as Aziraphale was unsuccessfully trying to shush the child.
“Can’t you just… miracle it back to sleep.” Crowley tried loudly enough to hear over the child's cries, seeing the muscles in Aziraphale face shift in frustration.
“I have. And It didn’t work. Not once.” Crowley slowly approached Aziraphale as he rocked the wailing child in his arms, this way he could examine it more closely.
It looked like a normal human baby, with its full head of curly hair and brown skin, and could have passed for one if not for the slight shine it withheld. Aziraphale Probably doubts them being an Angel because of the shade of its light.
Ironically, the baby cries become temperate and eventually comes to a stop the longer it stares at Crowley. Crowley grows uncomfortable by the second but Aziraphale is fighting back a grin. Though his eyes were twinkling, that said enough.
“I think… I think they like you.”
“Mgh. It has to go.”
“Crowley!”
“Angel, listen.” Crowley takes off his shades, clearly the angel was not getting it. “The child can not stay here. We can put it back in the basket, along with the note, and we can get rid of it on another person's doorstep and pretend this never happened.”
As if in response, the child coo’s. She certainly seems upbeat after just crying her little heart out not even minutes ago, Aziraphale seemed to be quite taken by it. So much so that he hadn’t heard a word Crowley had said.
Though, it was not the joy of the child that had him so distracted, it was the brightness it withheld. It started as a dim glow, then grew lighter.
“How marvelous.” The angel mutters.
It took Crowley a minute to realize what was happening until the child was as bright as a beacon.
“You were right, Crowley!” Crowley blinks.
“Course I am. I think I’ve been in the right this entire time, no? I might be mistaken but I would expect that to be the reason you called me over anyway.”
“This is why I called you, I was wary, of course. But I couldn’t tell they were… well, an angel! They didn’t–”
“They didn’t what, Aziraphale? You can certainly tell now, right?” Aziraphale hummed. He still held the glowing child securely in his arms.
“Well?” Crowley urged.
“Well I won’t be dropping them off elsewhere. I’ll go to the Angels.”
“When?”
“Not today, no, but before the weeks end.”
“Right then, handled?” Aziraphale slowly nodded, Crowley looked at him suspiciously now. “Angel, I need a vocal answer, I really do not like whatever that was implied.”
“All is well now, my dear.”
“Great. Nice necktie. Hungry?” Aziraphale’s smile grew into a genuine one.
⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀
A week has gone by, and not a single update from the Angel.
Anytime Crowley would ask, he would be brushed off, ignored even.
But Crowley is much more concerned about the amount of affection he’s been given lately. All thanks to that damned child, who should have been gone by now.
Aziraphale may pass a slight kiss to the cheek here and there. He’d be too busy to actually play with Crowley. And not with paper work, he would never turn down any thing that kept him heated with Crowley for paper work, no matter how sinless he acted. He even went as far as buying the child clothes .
He was raising a baby that wasn’t even his and was given to him unannounced and he sees absolutely no problem with that.
And Crowley’s eyes were indeed green as grass. How dare that little monster take his Angel away from him like that?! They didn’t even give him a fair chance to put up an actual competition.
No worries, he will consult Aziraphale tomorrow morning. Yep, bright and early. And make sure that child would be gone by the end of that day.