Chapter Text
The angel and demon residing in a cottage in the South Downs had truly begun to settle into their retired lifestyles. 'But why', you might ask, 'haven't they adjusted already? Surely more than thirty years of non-interference from Heaven nor Hell would be more than enough time for them to be accustomed to doing as they pleased?' For starters, remember that the angel and demon in question are immortal, and have been around for a very long time. Thirty years can pass in the blink of an eye for the two. And as humans say: old habits die hard.
Also remember that these are the same two idiots that knew each other for 6000 years, yet only realised their love several millennia later, and only confessed their love a mere thirty odd years ago after a sordid attempt by their former sides at starting Armageddon.
Honestly. Most people in books and movies typically confess their feelings before facing their potential demise. They're not normally so hard-headed as to wait out the ride and hope they make it out in one piece.
The universe let out a sigh the day the two finally got it together. Crowley had taken to hanging around the bookshop for several weeks after their little prank against their now former bosses, a bit too antsy to leave Aziraphale's side. Though the bookshop was very much here and Aziraphale was very much there at his desk with his reading glasses reading a book as per usual, the memory of the building aflame was too raw. He remembered belligerently screaming for one of the only beings he cared about who was no longer there, rushing about the shop for any sort of sign in a blind panic. That memory was not ready to leave the forefront of his mind just yet.
Aziraphale shared some of his sentiments, at least, by stocking up on what would normally seem to be an excessive amount of fire hydrants and removing his candles and any object that would normally house or produce a flame.
On that one particular day, realising that the two of them were more or less out of the clutches of Heaven and Hell fully sank into the demon’s head. He couldn’t guarantee that they’d ever be fully left alone, no, he knew this was more of a reprieve. Putting things on hold. But if Heaven and Hell were truly not looking at them now…
He turned his head from the seat he was sprawled upon to Aziraphale who had taken to shuffling his books around once more. He had his own system of organisation that no human would be able to decipher, much less if he kept shifting where said books were placed every other week.
Just the type of right bastard move that the angel would use.
He near melted at the sight, but if he sagged into the chair any further, he knew he’d never be able to get up. He’d never be able to do what he’d wanted for several millennia now. And if he allowed himself a semblance of hope, it might be something that would be reciprocated, too.
Springing up, he had sauntered over to Aziraphale in as nonchalant a manner as he could manage. On the inside, though, he was a thrumming mess.
“Angel.”
Aziraphale hummed, though he didn’t look over, continuing to shelf and pile his books. “Yes, dear?”
“Let me take you out on a date.”
Aziraphale would have dropped his books had he cared any less for them, but his trembling hands as he set his books down meant all the same.
This time, he met the demon’s eyes. “Crowley?”
“You heard me.”
A million different thoughts were rushing through him. There were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask, all the things he dared not think nor hoped could be. “Do you, um…” His eyes flitted every which way and his hands didn’t know what to do. “Are you- do you mean-”
“I mean on a date date, Aziraphale.” Crowley did not want to give room for the angel to overthink it. “A romantic date. The type of date that humans do when they…” But even though he’d gotten to this stage, he still couldn’t say any more gooey words associated with gooey feelings that he struggled to acknowledge most days. “You know, have romantic feelings for the other person.” He hesitated, before adding, “I don’t think it’s something we’d have to worry about not doing anymore. And even if our former sides were bothered, which I don’t think they are, they already know we’re friends. What’s a little more gonna add to that?”
Aziraphale’s blue eyes were shot wide open, his mouth open with words he wanted to say but couldn’t choose which ones. “I…”
Only then did Crowley realise that there might be the possibility that Aziraphale might still be too nervous, or that he hadn’t gotten accustomed to being on their own team yet, or worse: he didn’t return his feelings at all.
Just as Crowley was about to tell Aziraphale that he always had an out, the latter elected to close his mouth and instead beam at him. It was the smile that Aziraphale used when he got a glimpse of a delectable meal, and the glimmer in his eyes similar to obtaining a first-edition printing of a novel.
It was also rather similar to whenever Crowley did a little favour for him.
“That would be lovely, dear.”
Crowley had taken him to the Ritz. Where else would he have taken him that would be any more worthy?
It had taken a little more time that night for the two to get to a point of directly acknowledging their feelings for one another. But once they got there, both dams that contained countless years of pining and love came crashing through.
Things flowed ever easier from that point forward. They talked extensively, and about all the things that mattered. They engaged in physical affection, from kisses to cuddles and just a bit more of the human variety. They bought a cottage together in the South Downs. They even had a small wedding ceremony with some close members of Whickber Street invited as well as the humans (and one Antichrist) that helped stop Armageddon with them. They did keep semi-regular contact with them and were, after all, some of the few who were absolutely over the endless pining and wistful glances.
Crowley wasn’t much for having a wedding or getting married since he knew that what he and Aziraphale had was more than could be defined by human terms. It would also be a bit annoying to miracle a new date on their marriage certificate every few decades so no human that manages to find it gets too suspicious.
But Aziraphale was a sucker for human weddings. He loved his romance novels and the heart-fluttering idea of a beautiful venue, a hearty reception and being able to stand before an altar with the love of his life brought him unimaginable joy. And, well, Crowley couldn’t deny him that. He added a super sappy proposal for good measure, though he clarified that that would be the only time he ever let all that sappiness spill out like that. His vows delivered on this promise, but Aziraphale knew what he meant.
And maybe he grew to enjoy telling other people that Aziraphale was his husband, but he wouldn’t be caught dead saying that out loud.
Life was great, now. Their lives had been, for the most part, uninterrupted for the past thirty years and been lovingly spent in one another’s company. He maintained one of the most beautiful gardens the country had ever seen (and the plants had better not think otherwise), his husband continued to expand his ever-growing collection of rare and antique books, and they were ever the picture of retired as they could’ve been.
But one of them dared That Phrase. It was usually said, but to dare to think it was just as good, daring to even utter the phrase in their mind.
What could possibly go wrong?
And that's when Crowley began feeling the telltale signs of being summoned.
But it felt wrong somehow.
“Angel?”
The distress in his voice, though he tried to hide it, must not have gotten past Aziraphale, who had shot up to alert by his side, the page he was up to in his book all but forgotten. “Crowley? What’s wrong?”
“I’m being summoned.”
At this, Aziraphale largely relaxed, though his creased brow contained what little had latched on. “Oh, I hope it’s not another nasty bunch again. And I’d really not like to have to travel so far.”
Crowley shook his head and just kept shaking. “No, no, no, something’s weird about this one. Something’s different.” He couldn’t figure it out, he couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was, but it was different.
Aziraphale fussed over his husband, brushing his hands over his arms in reassurance. For who, neither of them knew, but they knew that they were running out of time. “I’ll find you, dear. Wherever it is you’re going.”
Through all the uncertainties and unknowns, Crowley couldn’t help but smile. A tender one. The smile only reserved for Aziraphale. “I know, angel. I know.”
They were only able to share a brief kiss before Crowley phased out of reality and was whisked away.
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“Hi, dad, what’s up?”
…
“Oh, the hotel is amazing! We still need to check out all the floors, and I have so many ideas for the new rooms-!”
…
“What? Oh my gosh. Okay, yeah, yeah! Lemme know when you get back. Aaand maybe I can get one of the guest rooms ready!”
…
“It’ll be fine, dad, I can handle it. If you want, you can come over and escort them.”
…
“Okie-dokie! See you later, dad. Bye!”