Chapter Text
Aziraphale loved Christmas. He brightened at the sight of the decorations that sprang to life everywhere in November and stayed well into January, if not March, thoroughly explored the stalls at the numerous winter markets of London, enjoyed holiday productions in London theaters (and did not mind seeing multiple renditions of Christmas Carol in the same year), and positively adored shopping for presents whenever an occasion presented itself. And, of course, he basked in all the joy and love he felt the humans project around themselves during the holidays.
Crowley, on the contrary, was ambivalent about Christmas. He noticed early on that the holiday season yielded a surprising amount of minor sins, and humans were easier to tip into gluttony or sloth than at any other time of year. He took advantage of that, writing up reports taking credit for what was essentially human nature, so Hell usually left him alone for the month. He was free to tag along with Aziraphale wherever the angel went as often as he dared (which was not very often at all) and to bask in his company in the relative safety of the bookshop, but he pretty much ignored the holidays otherwise.
This year, though, Aziraphale was ready to try and break this pattern. He grew restless in the years since the Apocalypse that didn’t happen, longing for a change but afraid to initiate it. The approaching holiday season seemed like a great opportunity to finally take a step, possibly even a leap, in the right direction. And, inspired by the humans surrounding them, the angel had just the idea to break the routine…
“Why don’t we try something new for Christmas this year?” Aziraphale casually suggested one evening in early November, as they lounged in the back room of the bookshop after a dinner out. “Celebrate it the human way - exchange gifts and have adventures together!”
After some negotiation they agreed on a couple of basic rules. The celebratory activities would commence on certain days in December (“I adore daily Advent Calendars so…” “C’mon, angel, I know you don’t want to be out and about every single day, you’ll need time to yourself to recharge in between”). On every such day one of them would plan an outing, ideally something they have not done before (“Make it “not in the last decade”, angel, it’s been six thousand years, how many things have we not tried ever?“), and the other would offer the planner a gift. They could use miracles to procure the gifts and tickets (“Do you know how far in advance these events sell out, angel? Without miracles, we’d be lucky to be able to do this a year from now”), but they would not use miracles to spy on each other’s plans (“‘m a demon, I don’t do so well with surprises…” “I have to insist, my dear, things being unexpected are half of the fun!”)
And with that in place, they parted ways to start planning their contributions to the celebration. Crowley, grumbling about sneaky angels having an unfair advantage, was on his phone even as he was leaving the bookshop. Indeed, Aziraphale had already planned out quite a lot of the things he would offer to his friend, including the last, most important one. Oh, he was so looking forward to this December!