Chapter Text
This was the first Christmas after the Second Coming was completely averted and Heaven and Hell combined for the Afterlife Project™, and Aziraphale and Crowley had pulled out all the stops on decorating the bookshop for the holidays. Well, Aziraphale had at least - Crowley’s main contributions were a sleek black tree in the corner covered in shimmering silver ornaments, topped with a coiled iridescent snake, and a staggering amount of alcohol on the makeshift bar in the center of the room. Aziraphale was responsible for the twinkling lights in all of the windows, the miniature train running around the tops of the bookcases, the array of fancy and delicious hors d'oeuvres near the bar, and the (very fake, to keep Crowley from having a panic attack, but still atmospheric) fireplace by the arranged circle of comfortable chairs draped with cozy blankets. There was also a carefully placed ball of mistletoe hung over the entrance to the backroom, which he hoped to catch Crowley under once their guests departed for the night.
Aziraphale watched the front door, fidgeting with the pale silver waistcoat under his light charcoal suit. A sky blue shirt and his normal tartan bow tie completed the ensemble. “Oh, I hope this goes well,” he muttered to himself. This was the first time all of his friends (and how unbelievable was that to think, that he actually had multiple friends! A found family of his own!) would be together, participating in a holiday gift exchange, and he desperately wanted everyone to get along.
“Don't worry, angel. Tonight will go well.” Crowley sauntered vaguely down the stairs from their flat, dressed impeccably in a black velvet suit. His shirt was the exact same pale silver as Aziraphale's waistcoat, topped with a shimmery burgundy tie, and Aziraphale could not stop the sappy look that graced his face at the sight of his demon. Crowley gave him a soft look of his own (though he'd deny it if anyone asked, of course) and pressed a quick kiss to Aziraphale's cheek. “You thought of everything, love.”
Before Aziraphale could say anything in response, there was a sharp rap at the door. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, looking like he was preparing to battle against Heaven and Hell again, rather than simply hosting a small party. He then strode purposefully over to the door and opened it, fixing a smile to his face.
Aziraphale’s forced smile turned genuine when he saw Anathema and Newt standing on the doorstep wearing coordinating green and red holiday jumpers - Anathema’s said “We Witch You a Merry Christmas” with a darling white cat below the wording, while Newt’s said “I'm Here to Delete Your Cookies” accompanied by a laughing Santa Claus face.
“It's so lovely to see you both! Please, come in!” Aziraphale hung their coats up by the door, placed their presents for the gift exchange on a side table, and gestured them into the middle of the room. “Do please help yourself to a nice drink and some nibbles, and have a seat by the not-fire.”
Before he could say anything else, there was another knock at the open door. “Oi, Mr. Fell! Happy Christmas!” Nina called as she walked into the room, followed closely by Maggie, Muriel, and Eric. The group had obviously walked over from the coffee shop together; Nina and Eric were both carrying large urns of what smelled like fresh ground and brewed Arabica coffee, while Maggie and Muriel were juggling an array of festive mugs. Aziraphale quickly miracled up another table by the bar to hold everything, and the group gently deposited their goods.
Maggie smiled at Aziraphale. “We figured the coffee might be a good idea, in case folks get a little rowdy after all the alcohol Crowley was sure to have.” She looked pointedly at the overstocked bar.
The aforementioned demon perused his liquor selection which included multiple types of whiskey, bourbon, rum, vodka, and red and white wine, plus a lovely little bottle of ice wine that he'd picked up just for his angel, and shrugged. “You're not wrong,” he said.
Aziraphale took everyone’s coats and gifts while Crowley began pouring drinks and making cocktails for those that wanted them. Crowley had recently gotten into making his own craft bitters and syrups, and there was a lively amount of chatter while people taste tested and appropriately complimented his creations. Soon, everyone had a drink to sip on (or, in Muriel's case, admire) and were nestled in the cozy chairs by the faux fire.
Aziraphale wavered between the door and the circle of chairs, unable to sit still while his hosting duties were incomplete. “Please, help yourselves to food, while we wait for the last couple to arri-.” There came one last knock at the door. Before Aziraphale could open it, it swung open hard, almost knocking him over. Gabriel and Beelzebub strolled in, festive in coordinating pale gold and dark red suits.
“We are here for the holiday festivities and to partake of alcohol!” Gabriel declared loudly.
“Oh, good!” Aziraphale delightedly clapped his hands. “We're all here now.” He quickly took Gabriel and Beelzebub’s coats and gifts and waved them over to the rest of the crowd.
Crowley went around the circle making introductions; everyone had at least seen each other during the lead up to the Second Coming That Wasn't, but they didn't necessarily know each other.
“Muriel, otherwise known as Inspector Constable, formerly of Heaven.” Muriel stood up, looking cheery in their bright red jumper covered in soft white cotton snowballs, and waved at the group happily before retaking their seat. “Still getting used to Earth, so be NICE.” Crowley glared at the group before continuing.
“Eric, the incredible replicating demon, with fabulous taste in clothes.” Eric, wearing snug black pants similar to Crowley’s and a black jumper with a fishnet snowflake on the front, waved.
“Beelzebub and Gabriel, former Prince of Hell and Supreme Archangel, respectively.” Beelzebub inclined zir head, while Gabriel grinned somewhat manically and waved his hand.
“And the humans - Nina, purveyor of fantastically strong espresso; Maggie, owner of a…sparsely attended record shop; Anathema, witch and professional descendant; and Newt, former witchfinder private. Don't let him near my sound system.” Crowley pointed to each human in turn and they nodded or waved as their name was called. “Alright, you all know each other. Now - eat, drink, be merry, and so forth.”
Crowley made a shooing motion with his hands then walked over to Aziraphale and slung an arm around his shoulder. “What’d you think, angel?”
Aziraphale beamed at Crowley and squeezed his hand. “Just perfect, dearest.” He looked at the crowd of people that were slowly starting to eat food and chat. “Do you think we should play charades, or some other parlor game? To encourage mingling?” Aziraphale dearly hoped this would be the start of a regular gathering with all of his friends.
Crowley looked horrified. “Not even at gunpoint. Extraordinary amounts of alcohol should do the trick. And we can do the gift exchange whenever you're ready.”
Aziraphale looked unsure; he had read that holiday parties were supposed to include festive games and activities, but decided to hold them in reserve in case they were needed. “Oh, very well.”
Crowley headed over to tend the bar, looking quite animated as he chatted and fixed cocktails, while Aziraphale mingled with their guests. He was thrilled to see that Nina and Anathema seemed to be getting along well, their heads together looking at something on Anathema's phone. Maggie and Newt were inspecting Crowley and Aziraphale's combined record collection next to the vintage gramophone, which Crowley had somehow connected to speakers throughout the bookshop. Aziraphale held a breath that he didn't need, then exhaled loudly when he saw that Newt was very careful to point out things but not actually touch anything. He'd rather not have to use a miracle to fix Crowley's carefully constructed “auditory experience,” as his demon put it, if he didn't have to. Eric appeared to be trying to teach Muriel how to do some kind of complicated dance to the strains of “Jingle Bell Rock,”, with varying degrees of success. Aziraphale was a little surprised to see that Beelzebub and Gabriel had found the mistletoe he had hung by the backroom, but they were just holding hands and staring intently into each other's eyes. Aziraphale pointedly turned his back on them, giving what privacy he could, and joined the rest of the group.
After everyone had a chance to eat and most of the guests were on their way to being joyfully sloshed, Aziraphale decided it was time for the gift exchange. Using a quick miracle to amplify his voice over the din of the chattering crowd, he gathered everyone's attention.
“It's time for our holiday gift exchange! Or, Secret Santa, as it can be charmingly called.” He walked over to the table containing the gifts. “I'll play Santa.”
Crowley muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “I'll sit on your lap” - Aziraphale gave him a glare before turning back to the table. “I'll hand out the presents one at a time so we can see what everyone got!”
“Let's start with this… interestingly wrapped present here.” Aziraphale picked up a rectangular box wrapped in blue paper that looked as though it lost a fight with a Doberman. He squinted at the tag on the side. “I think this is for Eric!” Aziraphale walked the package over to Eric, who reverently took it from his hands; the very first present he'd ever received. He was known as the “Disposable Demon,” and was used to being treated like he didn't matter. The fact that he actually had multiple people that cared about him now, including one who selected a present specifically with him in mind, was unbelievable. It was enough to drive a demon to tears or an existential crisis, neither of which was appropriate for a holiday party. Part of him was a little worried that the present would blow up in his face and he'd have to snap another Eric into existence; he had an extra outfit stashed away just in case. Eric cautiously unwrapped the package to find a smartphone - it wasn't the latest model, but very recent.
Eric breathed a sigh of relief and gave a surprisingly dazzling smile, clutching the phone to his chest. “Yes!! Now I won't have to borrow Hastur’s phone to use Grindr!” Beelzebub and Crowley exchanged horrified looks, while Anathema choked on her cocktail. Aziraphale really needed to find out what this Grindr business was all about.
“Reveal yourself, Secret Santa of Eric,” Aziraphale proclaimed, gesturing at the assembled group.
Newt shyly raised his hand. “Don't worry, Anathema did all of the setup, so it should be fine,” he mumbled. Eric beamed at him, thanking him profusely.
Aziraphale cleared his throat, drawing attention back to the present table. “Now, Eric - which one is the present that you brought?” Eric gestured at a daintily wrapped large square package on the end of the table, topped with a sparkling blue and silver bow. Aziraphale took a look at the tag. “This one is for Maggie!” He presented the gift to her with a flourish. Maggie slid her fingers down the tape in the back to remove the wrapping paper, leaving the bow intact.
As she looked at the contents, her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped into an o. “Is…is this real?” she asked, her voice shaking. Eric nodded his head, looking bashful. She slowly turned her present around to reveal a record; it was “Low” by David Bowie. The front said “To Maggie - Happy Holidays” and was signed by the Thin White Duke himself. “But…how?”
Eric shrugged. “He was down in Hell before the merger and we'd hang out sometimes. All the good rockers were down there, of course.” Crowley and Beelzebub nodded, while everyone else looked shell-shocked. “We did tell you the system didn't make any sense,” Eric stated matter-of-factly.
“You're right there, my good fellow,” Aziraphale agreed, looking fondly at his demon that never deserved to fall. At least they never had to worry about that happening again. And if Crowley hadn't fallen, they never would have been able to use their combined power to change things. Some things really were ineffable, he mused.
“An extraordinary present for an extraordinary young lady,” Aziraphale grinned and gave a courtly bow. “Now - which present is yours, Maggie?”
Maggie pointed to a large box wrapped in blue and purple ombre paper. “I had Gabriel. Be careful, it's a little heavy,” she cautioned.
Aziraphale didn't have any trouble lifting the large package, thanks to his angelic strength and years of carting around boxes full of books, so he easily carried it over and gently sat it down on the coffee table next to Gabriel.
Gabriel inspected the box, admiring the paper. “Purple truly is the most majestic of colors,” he stated. He tore into the present, revealing a violet colored portable record player and a stack of records. All of the records save one were from Buddy Holly - the remaining record was “The Blue Album” by Weezer.
“I wasn't really sure what to get an actual angel,” Maggie said hurriedly. “But I know you really liked the “Everyday” song by Buddy Holly so I thought you'd like to hear other things by him. These are all original printings; the 3 albums he released during his lifetime and then all the studio archival recordings from Coral records. The home recordings aren't very good quality so I didn't think you'd like those as much…” she trailed off, realizing that Gabriel had started to zone out. “Anyway. I hope you like it.”
Gabriel looked at the top record, then turned to Beelzebub. “My sweet, our song is on here. Now we can listen to it whenever we want on this portable jukebox!” He clasped their hands together and they stared into each other’s eyes for an uncomfortably long time.
“Right,” said Aziraphale, staring pointedly at the gift table instead of whatever was happening on that side of the room. “Gabriel, who did you have?” The archangel didn't respond, obviously in his own little world. “Gabriel!” Aziraphale raised his voice and coughed delicately. Crowley rolled his eyes and poked Beelzebub in the shoulder, breaking their concentration.
“Of course, of course,” said Gabriel, smiling like he didn't have a care in the world or a thought in his head. Most likely because he didn't have either. “I had Crowley. I think you're really going to like what I made for you,” he boomed, turning to face the demon.
“Why does that make me afraid?” muttered Crowley.
Aziraphale looked through the pile, coming up with a mid-sized Heaven-issued white envelope with “Traitor” written in elaborate calligraphy with a small smiley face underneath and reluctantly handed it over. Crowley grimaced at the packaging before tearing it open, removing what was inside, and miracling a small flame to destroy the envelope. He cautiously flipped over the glossy pages, revealing two 12x18 photographs of Gabriel - one with him wearing his normal archangel gray suit and a stern expression, the other wearing his “Jim” sweater from the bookshop and an absurdly beatific smile.
“Uh,” said Crowley, speechless.
“You can hang them in your bedroom and it will be just like I'm there!” declared Gabriel. He threw his hands out to the side, presumably to show that he could be anywhere and everywhere. “And they can be used if you have difficulty discussing your emotions! I know you two don't always communicate well. Just point to the happy Gabriel or disappointed Gabriel to show Aziraphale how you feel!”
Crowley stared open mouthed at Gabriel. He couldn't for the life of him come up with anything to say, not that wouldn't get his angel lecturing him for disrupting the party. “Ngk,” he managed to choke out. “Thankssss.” His sibilants and sarcastic tone betrayed how annoyed he was but, fortunately, Gabriel didn't understand sarcasm and Beelzebub was chuckling to themselves and didn't seem inclined to say anything. “I had witch girl. Anathema,” Crowley said quickly, desperately trying to move them along while pondering how he should destroy the photos. “Big purple and black box.”
Aziraphale made eye contact with Crowley and the two of them had to stifle their laughs at the truly ridiculous and tone deaf gift. Wisely deciding not to comment on the photographs, Aziraphale picked up the large box that Crowley indicated. It was wrapped in paper that looked like a galaxy done in shades of purple, blue, and black. He carried the surprisingly heavy box over to Anathema and placed it at her feet.
She looked at it quizzically, then carefully pulled off the stunning wrapping paper and saved it for later, as it really was quite beautiful. Underneath, she found the top of a cardboard box covering something. She lifted the box to find a beautiful and complicated looking clock with gold and silver plating. Upon closer inspection, she could see that the clock included the locations of the Sun and Moon in the zodiac, Julian and Gregorian calendars, local time with daylight saving time and leap year, eclipses, local sunset and sunrise, moon phases, high and low tides, sunspot cycles, and a complete planetarium including Pluto's 248 year orbit. She gaped at the exquisite, extremely thoughtful, and most likely hideously expensive present.
“This looks just like the Sørnes astronomical clock, but that can't be…”. She turned to look at Crowley, who was fidgeting in his seat and not looking Anathema in the eye. “It was sold to a private collector in the early 2000s…” she mused.
“Yes, well. Made them an offer they couldn't refuse, you know. Thought you'd like it,” Crowley muttered, looking at his hands.
“Thank you, Crowley. This is a wonderful gift and a spectacular honor.” Anathema reverently touched the top of the clock, then gave Crowley a brilliant smile.
Crowley blushed to the tips of his ears and ducked his head. “Yeah, well, you helped us save the world twice. You earned it. No need to thank me.” He looked around at everyone and sat up straight, then snapped at the crowd. “Ok, nothing to see here, right? Next person!”
Anathema took pity on Crowley and spoke up before anyone could say anything else about his gift. “I had Nina. It's the black gift bag.”
Aziraphale picked up the bag and inspected it - the front had a picture of two large blue circular ornaments with large white letters underneath that said “I like your balls”. He raised an eyebrow and said “Hmmm” disapprovingly, but walked forward and handed it to Nina. She opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of bourbon - Blade and Bow 22 Year Kentucky Straight Bourbon, to be exact.
She raised her eyebrows and whistled. “Woah. I didn't even think you could get this over here.”
Anathema nodded. “You're right - we picked it up when we were visiting my family in California. It won a bunch of awards, and tastes like smoky apples and honey. I thought you and Crowley could enjoy it together during one of your bitch sessions.” She winked at them both, smirking.
Nina and Crowley nodded at each other, while Aziraphale and Maggie tried not to look offended. “Excellent. We could've used that when you-know-who was you-know-where,” Nina said, gesturing to Aziraphale and pointing upwards. “But there's always time for good bourbon.”
She rummaged in the bag and pulled out the final item, a small box that said “Misfortune Cookies” on the side. Nina tilted her head at the box, mystified, then opened the package and removed one of the several black pouches inside. She tore the top open to see a completely black fortune cookie. Breaking the cookie open revealed a small fortune printed.on black paper. “Shit happens,” she read aloud, then cackled. “That sure is the truth. These are great!” She smiled at Anathema. “We definitely need to hang out more while you're in town.” She popped half of the cookie in her mouth. “Mmm, chocolate. Better than a normal fortune cookie, and these would go great with coffee…” Nina briefly pondered if the cookies might be a good addition to her shop, and vowed to consider that at a later date. “My present is for Muriel, the dark blue box.” She gestured to the box near Aziraphale’s hand.
Aziraphale picked up the tall box covered in very dark blue paper and small white snowflakes. Muriel sat up straight in her chair and lifted her hands to accept the present. Her very first present, at her very first Christmas party! From one of her new friends! She smiled happily and carefully took the top off the box. Inside with a large cylinder - she pulled it out to see that it said “Flower tea” on the side.
“Oh, thank you, Nina! I’ve never had tea made of flowers before. That I know of!”
Nina gave Muriel a soft smile. The angel was really too sweet and innocent for this world. “When you put it in water, it actually blooms like a flower. I know you haven’t worked up to actually drinking anything yet, and I thought you would enjoy looking at something other than a cup of brown or green water. It smells really nice too.”
Muriel clapped her hands and stood up, then walked quickly over to Nina. “That is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! It’s also the first gift, but I just know it will be the best! I love it! Can I give you a ‘hug’?”
Nina nodded cautiously before she was pulled into an awkward hug - Muriel patted her on the back with one hand and kept the other one straight out to the side. “My first hug too! Christmas is so nice!” Muriel went back to her seat, gazing at the tube of teas in awe.
“Muriel, who did you get a gift for?” Aziraphale prodded, when it became clear that Muriel had forgotten about the rest of the party.
“Oh! You, Supreme Archa- I mean, Mr. Fell, sir. It’s a bag with a ribbon that closes it.”
“Please, call me Aziraphale, dear,” Aziraphale gently chided, knowing it was a lost cause to get Muriel to call him by his preferred name. There were only three presents left, so Aziraphale easily found the cloth bag with the ribbon. He carefully untied and opened the bag, then lifted the contents to reveal a bottle of Sainsbury’s Chardonnay which he knew retailed for under 10 pounds and tasted primarily of vinegar. He swallowed hard and forced a smile on his face. “Oh, thank you, dear. This is very…thoughtful.”
Muriel gave him a dazzling smile. It was impossible to be upset with the angel, she’s just doing her best. “I know that you like wine, and this one had such a pretty label! I knew you’d love it!”
Crowley inclined his head slightly and made a surreptitious snap. The outside of the bottle stayed the same, but Aziraphale could see that the wine inside had changed color to that of a delicious 2019 Amici Hyde Vineyard Chardonnay Carneros. He tried valiantly not to sigh in relief, and quickly placed the bottle on the table before moving on to his present.
“Beelzebub, I bought your present.” He fidgeted with his hands. “I really had no idea what you would like, my dear. I’m happy to exchange it for something else if you don’t like it.” He picked up a large box covered in tartan wrapping paper and carried it over to Beelzebub.
Ze took the package from Aziraphale and quickly tore through the paper, shredding it in the process. Ze lifted the top off the box to reveal a stack of books. Beelzebub pulled out the top book and looked at it curiously. The cover had a shadowy figure about to bite the neck of a pale blonde woman in a red corset. “A Hunger Like No Other,” it proclaimed in large jagged letters. Ze arched an eyebrow and hissed “What is thisss?”.
Aziraphale blanched and took a step back. “They’re the first five books in the Immortals After Dark series by Kresley Cole. The heroes are all demons, and they’re quite… salacious. I thought you and Gabriel might enjoy them together.” Crowley shot his angel a disbelieving look followed by a gesture that Aziraphale thought meant he should read them with his demon, and possibly act out some of the more interesting scenes. Aziraphale blushed deeply and turned back to Beelzebub. “If I misjudged, my dear, I’m happy to exchange them for almost anything in my bookshop instead,” he propitiated.
Beelzebub turned the book over in zir hands and read the blurb. “Gabriel and I have talked about experimenting with sex. Perhaps this could help us understand how it works.” Ze inclined zir head towards Aziraphale. “Thank you for the gift. I will let you know how our experimentation goes.”
Gabriel clapped his hands together once. “Thank you for our pornography!” he boomed. He took Beelzebub’s hand and squeezed it while they looked at the other books in the box, pointing at descriptions that interested them.
Aziraphale held up his hands as if he could ward off the mental image of the two of them together intimately. “Really, there’s no need to tell me how things go. I’m just glad you like the present.”
Aziraphale leaned down to pick up the last gift, a small box wrapped in paper that had cartoon insects all over it. “There’s no mystery who this one is for! To Newt, from Beelzebub.” He handed the box over to Newt, then sat back in his chair and crossed his hands over his gently curved stomach.
Newt inspected the box and shook it a little. Beelzebub held a hand up like ze wanted to say something, then pulled back and waited to see what happened. Newt tore off the wrapping paper to see a small glass jar containing what looked to be a burning fire.
hAziraphale stood up extremely quickly, knocking over his chair in the process. “NO! It can’t be. Beelzebub, did you give him Hellfire?!” Muriel and Gabriel inhaled sharply and moved away from where Newt was sitting.
“Sweetheart… tell me you didn’t give a human Hellfire. At a party where angels are present. Including me. Please?” Gabriel pleaded with wide eyes.
Beelzebub shrugged. “I did, but it’s encased in miracle-enforced glass, it’s not going anywhere. It’s beautiful and a reminder of their own mortality. Seemed festive for the occasion.”
Crowley confidently walked over to the glass, picked it up, then vanished it into a pocket dimension. “Maybe let’s not leave Hellfire in the hands of the most destructive human I’ve ever met. No offense, Newt.”
Newt shakily shook his head. “You’re absolutely right. I should not be anywhere near that. Uh, thank you Beelzebub for the… thoughtful gift.”
Crisis averted, the angels slowly made their way back to their seats. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and restarted the holiday music. “Well. I think that’s enough excitement for one evening. Everyone, please help yourself to more food and drink, enjoy the “fire”, and try to relax.”
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The party guests mingled, oohing and ahhing over the gifts they’d received and given, and enjoyed the delicious cocktails (or straight hard liquor, in Nina’s case) that Crowley doled out. At one point, Crowley managed to catch Newt by himself.
“Look, Newt, I am sorry about having to take your gift away from you. It’s just not safe.” He snapped his finger, and in his hand appeared a bobble head figure of Dick Turpin, the infamous highwayman, which he handed to Newt. “A Dick Turpin of your very own. You can put it on the dash of your car. If you want.”
Newt thanked him profusely, and went off to show Anathema his new gift, after promptly breaking off part of the stand. Crowley rolled his eyes. “I can only do so much,” he muttered to himself.
It was around midnight by the time the party goers seemed to be losing steam, getting tired either because of too much alcohol, lack of sleep, or both. Couple by couple, they took their leave, thanking Aziraphale and Crowley for hosting and promising to get together soon for game night. Gabriel in particular seemed to want to try charades, while Beelzebub wanted to play a game Aziraphale had never heard of called Cards Against Humanity. He would have to look that one up - Crowley seemed adamant that he wouldn’t like it, but the angel was always interested in learning about new things.
Aziraphale returned from helping Anathema carry her astronomical clock to her and Newt’s hotel room to find the bookshop set to rights and Crowley curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, dozing. “So much for the mistletoe,” Aziraphale thought sadly to himself. He gently shook Crowley’s shoulder. “Time for bed, dearest.”
He helped the sleepy demon upstairs and tucked him into bed, kissing Crowley’s cheek as he drifted off again. Aziraphale turned to the bedside bookcase and pulled out a well worn copy of The Nutcracker by E.T.A. Hoffman, with the Finnish illustrations, to read while his demon slept. He fingered the small box in his waistcoat pocket. There would be time for kisses and their own presents later in the day, their first Christmas together as a couple, and he’d ensure it was one to remember.