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The moon was full, the air was frosty, and Aziraphale gazed at the trees in mild surprise. When Crowley had said he wanted to take him somewhere, Aziraphale had not been expecting a park. Nor had he expected to be standing on the bank of a lake looking out over the frozen water, the air cold enough to see his breath hanging as tiny puffs of mist in front of his face.
No wonder Crowley had insisted he wrap up warm before he’d performed the miracle to bring them here.
Wherever here was.
Aziraphale thought he should probably establish that information in order to judge whether this was one of Crowley’s better ideas, or whether he needed to raise an early objection before the whole thing got out of hand.
“Where are we?” he asked, looking slightly put out. Crowley couldn’t have Aziraphale looking put out. Not tonight.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, airily, trying to convey a tone of absolute confidence. Sometimes the less Aziraphale knew, the better, otherwise he started fretting. Tonight, Crowley wanted to cut him off before it got out of hand. “The important thing is this park closes its gates at dusk, so there won’t be any humans around, and no one will ever know we were here.”
Aziraphale did not look convinced. “Why are we here?”
“Ice skating!” Crowley gestured at the huge pond, the icy surface reflecting the silvery moonlight. He was rather pleased with himself for thinking of this activity and for finding the ideal place in which to do it. One that didn’t involve fighting through crowds of screaming children, or being run into by humans who had never ice skated before in their lives and had all the balance of a drunken mongoose.
This was exactly the sort of romantic nonsense he knew Aziraphale would enjoy.
“Are you sure the ice is thick enough?” Aziraphale was looking dubiously at the ice. Admittedly it was already cracked in several places, and it was possible he could see water rippling further out towards the middle, but such things were easily dealt with.
Crowley grinned and wriggled his fingers. “It is now.”
It occurred to him that Aziraphale’s lack of enthusiasm for the whole scheme might be because of one very important point. A point he should probably have checked before deciding on this particular activity for the evening.
“You can ice skate, can’t you?” he asked, trying not to betray his sudden anxiety over the question.
“Crowley, I’ve lived on earth for over 6000 years. Of course I can ice skate.”
“Right. Good.”
Slightly offended by the implication that he was some sort of incompetent luddite, Aziraphale wasted no time in miracling on some skates and stepping gracefully on the ice. Completely ignoring Crowley, he set off on a slow circuit of the lake, skates moving in a slow rhythmic motion, hands clasped behind his back as he enjoyed the sensation of cold night air flowing past his face.
He allowed himself a few internal grumbles about demons who treated him like he was made of glass just because he was a soft looking angel, and wondered if he should make some sort of comment to Crowley about it.
When he arrived back at his starting point though he found Crowley was still standing on the bank and was forced to forgive him instantly. How could he not when the demon was gazing at him with a look of such bestotted devotion?
“Lovely,” he said warmly, the word encompassing everything about the situation, including Crowley himself. “Are you going to join me, dear?”
“Ngk. Yeah. Right. Um.” With a click of his fingers, Crowley adorned his own feet with a pair of elegant black skates and stepped onto the ice. Almost at once his feet went in opposite directions and he flailed decidedly inelegantly, fighting to stay upright.
“Argh! Bugger!” he yelped, making a grab for a handy overhanging tree branch and clinging on. Aziraphale muffled his laughter in his scarf.
“When exactly did you last ice skate, my dear?” he asked, as Crowley got his long limbs back in order and made a second, slightly more successful attempt to stay upright without support.
“Not that long ago,” Crowley said indignantly, glaring down at his feet as if they had somehow betrayed him. “I skated on the Thames during the last frost fair.”
“Darling, that was in 1814,” Aziraphale pointed out. Crowley’s cheeks were really a rather adorable shade of pink, but he knew better than to mention it.
Crowley glared down at the ice again. “I could skate perfectly well, back then,” he snapped, trying to get his feet to behave themselves. They still seemed to want to go in opposite directions and were resolutely refusing to move in any sort of order.
This was not how he had expected the evening to go.
“You’re just out of practise, my dear,” Aziraphale said breezily, skating up to him and risking taking his arm. “Here, why don’t you hold onto me until you get used to it again?”
“I don’t need any help,” Crowley grumbled, and made as if to pull his arm away. Aziraphale tightened his grip and refused to let go.
“Of course you don’t, darling,” he said soothingly, “but it’s much more romantic this way, don’t you think?”
That stopped Crowley in his tracks, and after a second, Aziraphale knew he’d won when the demon relaxed with a little hmph of feigned annoyance.
“Oh, very well,” he mumbled, looping their arms together more tightly. “If you insist.”
Aziraphale said nothing, only let his lips curve into a small, satisfied smile as he guided the demon slowly out onto the ice.
Much later, back at the bookshop Aziraphale handed Crowley a cup of cocoa, laced with a generous measure of brandy and sat down next to him on the couch.
“That was fun, thank you, my dear,” he said, smiling softly over at the demon, who was still pink cheeked from the cold. His hair was rather blowsy as well, but Aziraphale knew better than to mention that either. Besides, if he mentioned it Crowley might fix it, and that would be a shame since it looked so adorable.
“Knew you’d enjoy it,” Crowley said, blowing on his cocoa and trying not to look too smugly pleased with himself. Ice skating was exactly the sort of romantic nonsense he knew Aziraphale would enjoy. The fact that he enjoyed indulging Aziraphale with said romantic nonsense was a fact he was trying very hard not to think about too deeply.
At least it hadn’t taken him too long to get used to being out on the ice again. And if, once his legs had finally started behaving themselves, he pretended to still be struggling so he could cling to his angel just a little bit longer, well that was no one’s business but his own. Might as well take full advantage of what had been a rather embarrassing overestimation of his own abilities.
It hadn’t mattered though. Not after a while. Not when Aziraphale had smiled at him so happily and gazed at him like he’d given him the world. Especially not when the angel’s eyes were sparkling and his hair was fluffed up like candy floss, and he looked so beautifully cosy all trussed up in his warm winter clothes.
Crowley was smitten and he couldn’t even bring himself to care.
“Bedtime soon, angel?” he asked, when the warmth of the cocoa had sunk deep into the bones of their chilled corporations.
“Sounds lovely, dear.” Aziraphale shifted and pressed himself just a little closer against Crowley’s side, the warmth of the body heat they were sharing even nicer than that from their drinks.
“Oh, but look!” Aziraphale was staring out the window, and when Crowley followed his gaze he saw the soft white of a snowflake falling past the window. Others joined it, until there was a light flurry drifting past.
It most likely wouldn’t last long and undoubtedly wouldn’t stick, the London climate being what it was, but there was a certain beauty in watching the way the light from the bookshop caught the flakes as they fell.
Silently, Crowley deposited his mug on the side table and curled his legs up, leaning into Aziraphale’s side so he could watch the display more comfortably. After a moment he miracled up a blanket – a tartan one – and gave a happy sigh when Aziraphale curled an arm around him and snuggled him close.
Watching the snow cuddled up under a blanket was terribly cliche – more romantic nonsense really – but it would make Aziraphale happy, and that was all that mattered.