Work Text:
Random Draw
Nestled between towering shelves of antique and priceless books, an Angel and a Demon were savouring the early hours of a Wintery crispy day.
Aziraphale had been fretting about mundane tasks, such as preparing his Eccles Cakes ready for his afternoon tea or trying to find a long-forgotten manuscript at the back of the bookshop.
For his part, Crowley was tending to his plants as the plant-dad he was, delicately applying a cloth over their leaves to get them rid of dust, then spraying them lovingly with a vaporiser. He had stopped yelling at his tiny forest the minute Aziraphale scolded him for doing so, on the very first day he had moved into the bookshop.
Finally lounging on the sofa in the study, enjoying the last sunbeams of the day, he was surprised to see Aziraphale coming to him with his magic hat in hand.
“Pick a paper” Aziraphale instructed, the hat turned over at the end of his outstretched arm.
Crowley sat up, eyebrows furrowing, before discovering three folded papers inside. After Crowley had picked one of them, Aziraphale opened it, smiled, then put the now unfolded paper back into the hat.
“What’s the deal, angel? Are you practising a new magic trick?”
Aziraphale stiffened, adjusting his countenance, quickly having a look at Crowley and avoiding his scrutinising eyes as fast as possible.
“I’m not telling you! It’s a surprise” he quipped playfully.
A loud thump, followed by a distressed Muriel’s yelp, was suddenly heard at the far end of the bookshop.
“What is it, little poppet?” Aziraphale tentatively posed, yet, Muriel didn’t answer back. While Angel and Demon ran to the door, Crowley halted on the threshold, and with a smirk on his lips, turned around and returned to his initial position in the study. Rubbing his hands mentally, he threw his hand into the magic hat to retrieve the 3 little papers. He first peered at the unfolded one: “South Downs” was written on it. He quirked an eyebrow before proceeding with opening the two other ones. “Woolmer Forest” was written on the first, “Hindhead Common” on the second.
What was the meaning of it?
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A change of scenery
“Angel, I’d like to know where’ve you been these past months, being all secretive and all. I’ve tried to keep it to myself but I can’t anymore. Please, open up, love” begged a forlorn Crowley one morning.
Aziraphale brushed his hand through Crowley’s flaming hair.
“You’ll be good to me and wait a bit more. I’m sure you can do that.”
Soon enough, his angel was already away, without any explanation.
Some hours later, he came back to the bookshop, one of his fists closing over a small mysterious object it seemed.
“Here, my dear, take one.”
Crowley stretched out an expectant hand towards him and felt a light piece of metal fall down on his palm.
A key!?
Aziraphale kept one of the two keys he had been hiding and put it in his pocket.
“Right. Is that the key from your secret safe in our bedroom? Am I allowed to finally get to know what’s hidden in it?” his sweet demon asked, cocky.
“My dear, you’re adorable. But ‘nah’, as you would say. Here is what I’ve been hiding from you: we’re moving to the South Downs!”
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Warren
Skylarks and yellowhammers flit through the air over a garden set in the rolling hills of the South Downs. After some cast miracles and some humanly tidying up (the angel insisted), Crowley and Aziraphale were enjoying the sunny weather under the canopy of two centenarian yews, both tucked in a hammock slowly rocking under the gentle breeze.
“Did you know there was an underground burrow under the hedgerow, angel?”
Aziraphale, who had developed the habit of breathing like a human, seemed to be curiously holding his breath.
“Oh, really, dear?” he feigned surprise, hiding even more behind the book he was reading.
Why was he acting all strange? wondered Crowley. It was like being back in the bookshop when his love was acting all secretive...
“...You sly little fox! Are you hiding something from me again, angel?”
“I am ab-so-lu-tely not, my dear!”, he replied, staring at his sweet demon in shock, his angelic face the epitome of innocence, before diving back into his romantic novel.
A slight frown and downturned corners of the mouth didn’t leave Crowley’s face for some time, while he tried to determine what was up.
In the end, he came to terms with the fact that his lover would have confided in him about it a long time ago if danger was involved. Angel’s antics — nothing to be feared.
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The hoarding
“What are you doing with all that wood, angel?”
Aziraphale was crouching against the hedgerow, piling bits and bits of wood under it. However, what was even weirder than doing so was its state of decomposition: pieces of crumbling stumps, decaying logs and whatnot.
“It’s good for the garden, dear.” he uttered in a monotone voice.
Another lie. Well, more like half a lie. A lie by omission, probably. Angel is getting better at lying it seems, admitted Crowley to himself. He was as much affronted as he was proud of him.
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When the temperature is just right
“Can you teach me how to use it?”
Aziraphale was holding a new smartphone in his hands, looking both expectant and coy.
“Why this sudden need to use modern devices, angel? Aren’t you in favour of calling me with your old rotary dial phone?”
“I’d like not only to be able to call you, but also to do my research faster.”
“Can’t you find your answers in your innumerable books? What about miracles?”
“Miracles are overrated, dear” he answered playfully.
So, obviously, Crowley taught him everything he knew. And as it was just simpler that way, a tiny miracle was done over the phone so that it didn’t need any battery charging. (Aziraphale, this time, didn’t complain).
~ ~ ~
“Sweetheart, how can I erase my Doodle history?” the angel asked later in the day.
“You mean Google history?” Crowley asked amused.
“Oopsie, yes indeed, love. Could you help me with that?”
“Why would you need such a thing?”
“It’s .... confidential...”
“You haven’t been in contact with heaven, have you?” Crowley inquired apprehensively.
“No, no, no, no, no, of course not!” Aziraphale cried out, reassuringly.
Crowley rose to him, but instead of taking the phone, he pulled his angel to himself, holding the lapels, leaving only their faces barely apart, his lips grazing over his lover’s. “First, the house, then the burrow, now this. Such a sneaky angel.” he murmured, before tracing a lane from his angel’s lips to his porcelain neck, kissing him over and over, sensually.
“Will some bedroom activities make it up for you, dear?” Aziraphale teased.
Crowley faced his cheeky lover. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, angel!”
“But first, can you do this for me?” his angel asked again, caressing his sweet demon’s clavicle excruciatingly softly with the damn phone.
“If it means I’m gonna eat cake sooner, I'll do that in no time.”
And as Crowley was in fact a demon, he couldn’t help but look at Aziraphale’s Google history. Why not? It was his nature after all!
Casually stealing a glance at the angel’s history very quickly for any potential dangers, purely as a protective measure. (You’re trying too hard to justify curiosity and boundary crossing, Crowley!)
Google history: “Where do snakes lay their eggs?”
Well, that was quite unexpected! Is his angel in search of weird ass sexy times? No waaay!!!
~ ~ ~
Later in the day, Crowley was tending to his indoor plants. Finding the silence inside their house quite unusual, he decided to peek around the garden. After a quick stroll, he found Aziraphale crouching under the hedgerow, a thermometer in his hand. He decided to hide from his fanciful angel to better spy what the actual hell, something, whatever, was going on.
Aziraphale was looking at the thermometer, a satisfied grin over his lips. A gust of wind brought a very familiar smell to his nose and made him start with surprise. He suddenly tensed and looked around him. Crowley miracled himself out of the scene, back inside the house.
Woof! ‘t was a close call!
~ ~ ~
One morning, after a rainy week, after brooding on his favourite sofa because his angel was still hiding secrets from him and not letting him in, after finally getting out in the garden, he felt it.
Under the hedgerow, inside the rabbit burrow covered with decaying wood, it was slithering and undulating along the earthen walls. Moreover, in the deepest confines of the warren there were several... he wasn’t sure what they were... stones? No, it wasn't... wait! Were they ......
His angel was close to the hedgerow, smiling satisfyingly.
“Angel! Is that....”
“Surprise, my love!”
“All this secrecy for a snake? Really?”
“Not only. She’s expecting.”
...eggs! Snake eggs!
Staring at Crowley’s transfixed stance, his golden eyes welling up, he ran to him and embraced him.
“My dear, I’ll do everything for you.”
“Because you’re so smited, smote, smitten?” joked Crowley, a tear rolling down his cheek, a radiant smile on his lips.
“Precisely!”