Chapter Text
Aziraphale did not particularly like going to the store.
He supposed he didn't necessarily hate it either. It was nice to get out and drive the Bentley every now and then—Crowley had gotten more comfortable letting him, to Aziraphale’s delight—and this was a necessary trip, too.
It was nearing winter. They had lived in their new cottage for nearly a year now and Aziraphale had decided to take up a new hobby. Knitting! He wanted to knit Crowley and himself some lovely Christmas sweaters this year that the demon would pretend not to like but would be impossible to separate from for the entire season. The only problem was, he didn't have any of the necessary supplies, hence his current trip to the craft store in town.
He hummed happily along to Beethoven playing over the Bentley’s speakers as he drove through the countryside, smiling at the sheep-dotted hills. Oh it truly was lovely out here.
Aziraphale did find himself missing his shop from time to time but he and Crowley did still visit every now and then, and Muriel had taken excellent care of it so far. He trusted they would continue to do so. His books were in safe, loving hands, and he did not regret moving to the South Downs with Crowley, not even for a moment.
They'd had a wonderful time so far.
Crowley had set up his garden just the way he wanted it, and their apple tree was growing nicely, though still far too young to bear any fruit yet. And Aziraphale had his library. They had brought several of his favorites over from the bookshop, and he'd acquired many more since. In fact, Aziraphale was beginning to consider expanding the room using miracles. Or perhaps adding a second, secret, room. He was sure Crowley would like that idea.
They had made that little cottage their own in the year they'd had it. They had shared many bottles of wine, they had sat out on the swing in the garden and drank tea, and sometimes, in the colder months, Aziraphale would wear his warm socks and sit on the couch and read while Crowley’s head rested in his lap.
Aziraphale still found himself worried, at times, that Heaven and Hell would find them again, and on those nights Crowley would hold him, assuring him that everything would be alright, and that all of those things were behind them. Aziraphale often found himself lulled to sleep in Crowley’s arms then, too.
Admittedly, he had begun to enjoy sleep, though he mostly liked it because he got to lie beside Crowley. He still did not care so much for the unconscious bit, but getting to wake up to Crowley’s arm curled around his waist was always well worth it.
And now they had eternity for soft moments like that. An eternity, where, Aziraphale was beginning to realize, he needed to find something to fill the time. Normally he had his bookshop to run, but now that was up to Muriel. So he thought he'd try his hand at knitting.
It seemed a wonderful little hobby, and Aziraphale couldn't deny, he did love the idea of making Crowley all kinds of little things. Perhaps some mittens or maybe some nice warm socks. Yes, that would be nice. Aziraphale was sure he could find a nice black and red pattern while he was out today that would satisfy the demon.
Halloween was just around the corner too. Perhaps Aziraphale could knit something small for the holiday for practice, like some coasters with little pumpkins on them for their tea and hot chocolate. That sounded wonderful.
It was only about five minutes into the drive, however, when he had to slam on his breaks as a small, dark shape darted out in front of the car.
Thankfully, he stopped just a foot or two shy of the poor creature, but it didn't run any further. Just sat, shivering, in the middle of the road. It looked to be a cat, and only a baby, too. Likely just a few weeks old, considering it hardly seemed able to walk.
Aziraphale got out of the car. He couldn't very well leave the poor thing here. It was all alone and clearly cold. The least he could do was bring it back to the cottage for a bit. He and Crowley could hold onto it for a time. Until they found it a different home.
He gently scooped the kitten into his arms, murmuring, “There you go. It's alright. You're safe now, little thing.”
The kitten meowed at him, and Aziraphale couldn't help but smile.
He climbed back into the Bentley, setting the kitten in his coat pocket, where it settled right in without protest, then started back towards the cottage.
* * *
Aziraphale returned just a mere ten minutes after he'd left the cottage, proudly holding up a small animal in his hand. “Crowley, look!”
Crowley narrowed his eyes at the creature in Aziraphale's hand from his place on the couch. “What's that?”
“It's a cat. Well, a kitten, to be exact,” Aziraphale explained. “The poor thing was shivering in the middle of the road and I couldn't very well just leave it there, could I?”
Crowley supposed he couldn’t really argue with that. Wasn't sure if even he could've left an innocent creature such as that sitting in the middle of the street but- “Why did you bring it here ?”
“Well, so we can take care of it of course,” Aziraphale said, matter-of-factly.
Crowley blinked. “What- We can't take care of a kitten, angel, we don't even have food.”
“No, we don't, which is why I'll be heading back out in just a moment.” He stepped forward, placing the kitten gently in Crowley’s lap.
It blinked blurrily up at him, seemingly hardly even knowing where it was right now. “Keep an eye on him while I'm gone, would you?” Aziraphale continued. “Perhaps you could even think of a name.”
“What? Angel-” Aziraphale was already out the door, and Crowley let out a groan.
He turned his gaze down to the little void in his lap. Glanced around the empty living room. “What… What am I even meant to…” He sighed, then reached down and picked the kitten up, holding him so he could look up at his face.
His eyes looked like they were going two different directions, and he turned his head to look around the room, trying to take in his surroundings before his gaze landed on Crowley.
He meowed loudly.
“Yeah, alright,” Crowley muttered. “Er… here.” He bent down, setting the cat on the floor.
The small creature stood there for a moment, scanning his suddenly very different surroundings, then promptly wobbled beneath the couch.
“No, no, no, don't go under there.” Crowley leaped to his feet, laying flat on the floor, watching the kitten clamber beneath the couch. He seemed to hold no fear of the unfamiliar space. Certainly not as he rolled onto his back and began to pull himself along the underside with his claws.
Crowley reached under, grabbing the kitten and pulling him out, wincing at the sound of claws pulling against fabric. “Come on, just… work with me, alright?” he muttered, getting to his feet. “If you get lost in here Aziraphale will kill me so just… hold still.”
The kitten squirmed in his arms, yowling, demanding his freedom.
He soon wriggled free of Crowley’s hold, but didn't fall. Instead he immediately latched all four paws onto Crowley's arm, claws digging into his jacket, thankfully not his skin, and began to climb up to his shoulder.
“No! Just- Argh.”
He pried the kitten free and held him aloft, watching as he pawed helplessly at the air. He didn't show any sign of slowing down any time soon.
Crowley sighed and went to the middle of the living room, miracling the coffee table away for now, and sat down cross legged on the floor.
He set the kitten down gently before him and watched the thing carefully. Ready to snatch him right back up if he started to wander too far.
Thankfully, this time he didn't seem inclined too, and Crowley wondered if he was perhaps finally beginning to understand. Maybe they were fine now and wouldn't have any more problems going forward.
And then the kitten squatted right there and began to take a piss.
“No, no, not the rug. We just bought that,” Crowley groaned.
He squeezed his eyes shut. I cannot do anything to this little creature. I can't, Aziraphale would be very, very upset if he came back and the kitten had been turned into a statue. Even if it, technically, wouldn't hurt him at all, and would be reversible, Aziraphale would still feel terrible for the little thing.
So Crowley took a deep breath, willing himself to be calm.
He could do that. He could be calm. All of this was fine. There was nothing wrong at all . Nothing.
Crowley opened his eyes again to find that the kitten had disappeared. He loosed a long, tired sigh, then cleaned up the rug with a wave of his hand and gave a glance around the room, still not finding him. How had he managed to run so far on such little legs? “Where did you run off to now?”
Crowley stood and made his way into the kitchen, his gaze on the floor, looking for a little dark shape moving beneath the table.
“Should call you Hellspawn,” Crowley muttered under his breath as he peeked under the chairs. “Or Lucifer. No, that’s weird. I used to know a Lucifer.”
The cat clearly was not here.
Crowley went back into the living room, and quickly checked under the couch, but he wasn’t there either.
“Or arsehole. That’s a good one,” Crowley continued, getting to his feet and picking up pillows, tossing them aside. He wasn’t hiding behind any of those either. “Or little shit. Where are you?”
Crowley left the living room, heading down the hall, towards his and Aziraphale’s room. The door to Aziraphale’s library was closed so the cat couldn’t possibly have gotten in there, which left this room as the only place he could be, and Crowley did indeed find him there.
He had managed to climb onto their bed, and had left a small pile of shit at the foot of it, it seemed. He was near Aziraphale’s pillow now, though, crouched down to hop to the nearby nightstand, giving a little preparatory wiggle before making the leap, landing clumsily beside George.
The cat then sat down, facing Crowley, his tail folding neatly over his front paws, then glanced at the cactus beside him. It was already sitting dangerously close to the edge, Crowley couldn’t help but notice.
Crowley stared the creature down, hoping perhaps a good glare would get it to behave. “You are the bane of my existence. Don’t you dare.”
The cat simply blinked at him, unbothered.
“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” Crowley threatened. “I could turn you to stone, or inside out. I could make you a little goldfish and flush you down the toilet, do you know that?”
The kitten meowed in answer, in defiance, then stood up and went to George, rubbing his flank against the pot, pushing it just that extra inch over the edge and sending it shattering against the floor. And, with George gone, the cat promptly lost his balance and began to tumble down with it.
Crowley could already see how upset Aziraphale would look if the cat got hurt. He wouldn't blame Crowley, of course, but his face would still fall, and his brows would furrow with worry.
Crowley couldn't have that.
He lunged forward. “No, you-” He clearly wasn't going to catch him in time, though, so he did the only other thing he could think of instead and stopped time in a panic. Then, with the cat safe, stuck in midair, fur sticking out every which way, Crowley marched over and snatched him by the scruff. “That’s it. You’re going in time out.”
He went back out to the living room and miracled a cat carrier, tossing him inside and locking the door. He then set him calmly on the armchair and went back to lounging on the couch in peace.
Well, nearly.
The cat was now clawing at the bars of his cage and meowing to be set free, leaving Crowley unable to think about anything else.
Still, he said, “No, I’m not letting you out. And you’re definitely not staying, so don’t get used to it here.” He promptly miracled a blanket to cover the cage.
It worked with birds. Maybe it would work for the cat too. And after a few minutes it seemed to. The cat finally quieted, at least. Now he just had to wait until Aziraphale returned and, unfortunately, be the bearer of bad news. Because Crowley was not dealing with this for… however long cats lived. How long did they, actually? Ten years? Twenty?
Crowley wasn't sure but either way, it was far too many to be dealing with… all of that. They could hold onto the thing for a bit. It wasn’t fair to just throw the helpless creature out in the cold, but they were not keeping it. It was simply out of the question.