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At its last meeting, the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association had decided all shops would stay open past their usual hours on October 31st so that the local children could stop by the shops for trick-or-treating. This meeting had spent entirely too much time discussing what sort of lights could be used. One faction of shop owners had strong opinions that candles in the jack-o-lanterns were the only way to go, a classic. Meanwhile others felt strongly that candles were far too dangerous and that only LED lights should be used. Aziraphale staunchly agreed with the latter, the first time he had ever had much of an opinion about any topic at a Whickber Street Shopkeepers Association meeting. After tedious debate about these lights, for the first time ever, the shopkeepers miraculously were able to come to an agreement that LEDs were really the better choice after all.
Aziraphale hadn’t always been keen on Halloween, what with its murky origins and purported ties to the other side. But in the last several decades, he had warmed to the holiday. After all, now it was really more about enjoying sweets and dressing up in fun costumes. Though it had been some years since he had graced a stage, he relished any opportunity for costumes and theatricality. He found it rather charming to see the costumes the kids came up with, especially since very few were actually of the spooky variety.
Around the time that he would normally be flipping the sign on the door to “closed,” the angel went to the back room to fill a large bowl the bags of candy he’d bought a few days prior. As he returned to the main area of the bookstore, Crowley strode in. He was in good spirits. Though Halloween had largely mellowed out among children, adults’ celebrations still presented many opportunities for the demon to incite debauchery and temptations. As such, it was his favourite holiday.
“Hey, angel!” he said cheerily as he took off his sunglasses and discarded them on a side table.
“Hello, my dear,” said Aziraphale, giving his demon a peck on the cheek as he set down the bowl of individually wrapped sweets on the table by the couch and took a seat.
It would still be some time before the trick-or-treaters started coming by. It was only just barely dusk, and he knew most would wait until it was properly dark. Crowley joined him on the couch, sprawling comfortably as they shared about how their days had been. As Aziraphale told some funny story about a customer, Crowley idly reached for a piece of chocolate in the bowl. He didn’t often eat but would partake if it added to the overall experience. Sometimes a snack just fit the occasion too well to pass up, like popcorn at the movies, or in this case, an orange and black wrapped piece of candy on his favourite holiday.
But before his long fingers were able to pluck out a mini peanut butter cup, Aziraphale gently swatted his hand away from the bowl.
“Those are for the children,” he admonished.
“Of course, mustn’t forget about the children,” Crowley mocked in the same mocking tone he had once taunted Aziraphale about having to listen only to celestial harmonies for eternity.
“Besides, I got something even better just for us,” Aziraphale said, his expression both sheepish and incredibly pleased with himself.
Reaching for a bag next to his side of the couch, he pulled out a box of dark chocolates, much finer than those in the cheap variety pack bags he’d bought for the trick-or-treaters, as well as a bottle of red wine.
“It’s rather chilly tonight so I thought some mulled wine would be a nice way to stay warm and cosy while we give out candy.”
“We? I never signed up for this. It’s your bookshop, isn’t it?” Crowley grumbled. “And keeping the good stuff for yourself? Not very angelic.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Well, I can’t give out wine to children,” Aziraphale huffed, then smiled and rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“Oh-ho, now that I’d like to see,” the demon chuckled. “The parents have a hard enough time wrangling their kids all hopped up on sugar as it is.”
“They’ll probably start coming by soon. I’m going to go put my costume on. I’ll just be a minute. Can you keep an eye on the door?”
Crowley made a noncommittal noise of assent as the angel left the room. He unwrapped one of the cheap chocolates from its orange wrapper and popped it in his mouth. Save the quality stuff for his angel, he’d appreciate it more anyway. Besides, there was just something more fitting about a vaguely pumpkin-shaped peanut butter cup on Halloween.
Luckily for Crowley, he wasn’t left to face any hyped-up children on his own. Aziraphale returned, having changed into his magician’s costume from 1941, which was still in perfect condition, of course.
“You still have that?” said Crowley.
“Yes, it holds good memories.”
“Ah yes of course, fighting Nazi zombies and nearly getting shot. Everyone’s idea of a jolly good time.”
“Well, it all worked out didn’t it,” said Aziraphale, brushing Crowley’s comment aside with a wave of a hand. “Besides, you know what I meant. It’s a lovely memory because I got to spend the evening with you." His eyes twinkled.
Crowley rolled his eyes. “I enjoyed it too,” he said in a falsely begrudging way. “At least don’t try doing any magic tricks tonight, alright? Not unless you want to clean toilet paper and eggs off the bookshop. I was cleaning frosting out of my ears for a day after the last time you tried to entertain kids with magic tricks.”
Aziraphale was at the stove, heating the wine and stirring in the mulling spices. “No costume for you?”
“Eh, you know I don’t do costumes. Can’t be arsed.”
“Oh, but it’s fun!”
“Ugh, I suppose I’ll just not wear my sunglasses,” he answered, muttering to himself. “Maybe that’ll give the kids a proper scare. At least that’s more in line with what this holiday is supposed to be.”
“I do love being able to see your beautiful eyes,” Aziraphale smiled, nuzzling up next to Crowley and looking up into his yellow eyes as he handed him one of the two warm mugs of mulled wine he’d poured.
Crowley looked away, shrugging off the compliment and taking a sip of the warm beverage. For all his pretending not to care, no matter how many times his angel said they were beautiful, the demon was still a bit self-conscious of his eyes. To him they were a constant reminder of his worry that no matter how hard he tried, he might never be good enough for his angel.
The bell on the shop door tinkled, followed by a chorus of “Trick or treat!” breaking him from this train of thought. Aziraphale fluttered about excitedly, bringing the bowl of candy over to offer to the kids and keep it closer to the door.
Children filed in and out of the bookshop all evening, Aziraphale cooing over the costumes. (“Aren’t you precious!” “What a clever costume. Did you make that yourself?”) He was partial to the classics – pumpkins, princesses, fairies, knights in shining armour – but was equally entertained by the enthusiasm the kids had for their costumes of cartoon characters and comic book heroes even if he was less familiar with those. Meanwhile, Crowley mostly lounged around the shop, refilling their mugs of mulled wine whenever either finished theirs, and indulgently watching how much his angel was enjoying himself.
Nina stopped by a while later, two blue takeaway cups in hand. She wore a classic witch hat, though was otherwise dressed as usual. Through the open door, they could hear The Monster Mash playing from Maggie’s record shop.
“Happy Halloween! We’re giving out hot apple cider at the café tonight and thought I’d bring some over for you two.”
“Thank you, Nina. You’re a dear,” Aziraphale said, accepting the steaming cup.
Crowley accepted a cup too, pulling out a hip flask and adding a splash of something to his. How he managed to fit a flask in the pocket of those tight trousers, Nina couldn’t fathom.
“That’s a nice getup,” she said gesturing to Aziraphale’s magician attire.
“Thank you!” he bowed with a flourish of his cape. “Would you like to see a bit of prestidigitation? A magic trick,” he clarified when he was met with a blank stare.
Crowley groaned, throwing his head back.
Nina smiled. “Sure, why not.”
“Ugh, don’t encourage him,” Crowley shook his head, no real malice in his voice.
Aziraphale began to pull a silk scarf from his sleeve, and with it out spilled several playing cards. He sighed and knelt down to pick them up. Nina turned to Crowley who watched Aziraphale with an affectionate “I told you so” expression.
“I see even you’re getting in on the Halloween spirit. Those are really cool contacts you’ve got there.” Come to think of it, she couldn’t say what colour Crowley’s eyes were normally. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him without sunglasses on.
“You must be rubbing off on your grumpy man here if he’s willing to get in on the fun,” she said, nudging Aziraphale, who was now standing, with an elbow. Turning back to Crowley, she asked, “I’ve heard novelty contacts like that can be uncomfortable. Aren’t they hard to see in?”
“Not at all,” Crowley answered, smirking like it was some private joke she didn’t understand.
He was an odd one for sure, she thought, but she was glad to see he and Mr. Fell were back together, bickering like an old married couple as much as ever. Goodness, it had been tedious watching their mutual pining going ignored for so long. And worse still after Mr. Fell had gone away. Part of her worried that it was her fault, that she and Maggie had pushed Crowley to move too fast in opening up to Mr. Fell and acknowledge their real feelings for one another. She and Maggie never quite got a clear answer from either about what had transpired and didn’t want to pry, but eventually he came back, and things seemed better than ever between the couple. It was sweet to see how much they clearly loved one another despite what a mismatched pair they seemed at first glance.
Nina glanced at her phone and said, “Well, I’d better be getting back to the coffee shop. Sam’s holding down the fort while I came over here and I told him he could go home once I got back. It won’t take long to close up on my own. Happy Halloween!”
“You too! Stay warm and tell Maggie we say hello!” Aziraphale waved after her.
The stream of trick or treaters began to dwindle not long after that and by eight, they decided it was time to lock up for the night.
“What a lovely evening. There really were some charming costumes.”
Crowley shrugged as he handed Aziraphale a fresh mug of mulled wine.
“Care to watch a movie?” Aziraphale asked as he settled in on one end of the couch and took a sip. “Nothing too scary though.”
“Rocky Horror Picture Show?” Crowley suggested. He knew that, like Halloween itself, it was one they both enjoyed.
“Ooh, yes, let’s!”
Aziraphale cued up the movie. Crowley stretched out along the length of the couch, his head resting in his angel’s lap, feet dangling off the opposite end. Aziraphale idly ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair and they both hummed along as the floating red lips appeared on the screen.