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"Get in the trunk, angel."
"I'm sorry?"
Crowley patted the Bentley's body affectionately. He arched an eyebrow when he saw Aziraphale still standing on the pavement.
"You owe me. You said you'd do anything."
Aziraphale sighed. He knew better than to do a deal with the devil (or close enough), but he'd been desperate. A promise was a promise. He climbed into the truck, gathering his white robes around him. He still didn't know why Crowley had insisted he wear this, or why he'd asked him to miracle his hair long, and a beard to go with it.
Crowley closed the trunk and sauntered around the car to the driving seat, jingling his keys.
He drove off at full throttle.
On the Bentley's rear bumper, a sticker faintly glowed. It read as follows: "Honk if you worship Satan".
Crowley sped through London. In an attempt to drown out the pounding in his ears, he turned on the radio.
YOU CALL ME UP AND FEED ME ALL THE LINES YOU CALL ME SWEET LIKE I’M SOME KIND OF CHEESE-
He turned it off again. Recently, the Bentley had taken a liking to more obscure Queen songs, and Sweet Lady had become a favorite. Not a favorite of Crowley’s, that is - he would rather crash into a ditch than listen to that chorus one more time.
He yanked the Bentley’s steering wheel to un-miss a turn, and heard muffled angelic protest from the trunk. The words reckless and brake pedal were the only ones he understood.
“Sorry, angel,” he shouted.
He left London, going Northeast on the main road until it turned into the M11 motorway. Crowley enjoyed driving here at night - there was less people to avoid while speeding. But his shoulders tensed with every passing minute. Hopefully, Nina and Maggie had gotten everything they needed for The Plan.
The trunk was surprisingly quiet - Crowley had fully expected the angel to bombard him with questions. But so far, Aziraphale had turned out to be remarkably cooperative. It was very frustrating.
Crowley had hoped to ruffle his partner’s feathers by making him get into those ridiculous robes - but when he saw Aziraphale standing there, long blonde curls melting into the dress (which fit him like a glove), Crowley had to curse under his breath. Why was he hot, even in that?! …Had to be the blasted beard.
Crowley’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel (the rhythm of Sweet Lady, unknowingly). He was growing anxious. What was taking them so long?
A honk came from behind the Bentley. Crowley checked the rearview mirror and grinned. “About time!” (editado)
Maggie giggled as she looked over at Nina. “You get it? Honk… if you worship Satan?”
Trying to roll her eyes, all Nina could do was smile. Maggie had a way of breaking through Nina’s snarkiness on all fronts. She was irritatingly adorable.
“What now?” she asked Maggie who had leaned over and was rummaging through boxes in the backseat.
“It’s time for… the Plan,” she said over her shoulder.
“And what’s the plan?” Irritation was starting to clip her words; it was cold and getting late and she had to open the cafe at 5 the next morning.
Smiling broadly, Maggie turned around, pressing a drawstring pouch into her chest. “All will be revealed soon!” And then she giggled, the most adorable, endearing giggle Nina had ever heard.
Nina was smiling before she could stop herself. Dammit. Nina cleared her throat. “Um, that’s not going to work. Why are we colluding with a Demon in the middle of nowhere at night? I know he’s our friend, but this feels weird. And where’s Aziraphale?”
Maggie wasn’t listening, suddenly tapping frantically on her mobile.
“Earth to Maggie! Who are you talking to?”
“The witch.”
“Witch!?”
Maggie looked up. “Yeah, Anathema.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know we knew a witch.”
“Oh, well, she’s very nice. American… but nice.”
Nina shook her head. “Maggie-”
A knock on the window caused them both to jump. Crowley motioned for them to open the window.
“Where’s Anathema?”
“On her way!” Maggie said, stepping out of the car.
“Alright, as soon as they get here we can get started.” Crowley nodded, rubbing his hands together against the chill.
The sound of crunching leaves from behind made them all turn around. A tall, 17-year-old walked up to Crowley, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Crowley,” Adam said, “ do you have any idea what time it is?” (editado)
Crowley held up his wrist. “No, I don’t. Forgot my watch.” He looked around. “Where’s the rest of them?”
“Who?” asked Adam.
“Your friends. You four never go anywhere alone.” Crowley peered around in the dark as if he expected to see three more teenagers spring from the bushes.
“You didn’t say they were invited. You just asked me if I’d come,” said Adam, looking a little confused.
“Who’s the kid?” Nina peered out the window at the lanky youth with his sandy-coloured curls. “Crowley never struck me as the type who tolerated children well.”
“Maybe Aziraphale knows him?” Maggie shrugged. “Oh, we’re getting out of the car.”
Crowley now stood beside Adam, the two of them speaking together quietly. Crowley looked towards Maggie, who had her hand on back door handle. Crowley waved her away.
“Leave it for now. We’ll get it in a minute.”
“All right.” Maggie’s hand dropped to her side.
Next to her, Nina pinched her nose in frustration. “I just wish someone would tell me what’s going on here.”
“All in good time!” said Crowley cheerfully. His phone dinged repeatedly and he fished it out of his trouser’s tight front pocket to shut off the alarm. "Everything is on schedule."
"That's great," said Nina. "Does this mean we'll get this mystery party started now?"
Maggie gave Nina's arm a calming pat.
“We’re still waiting for Tracy since Aziraphale’s fond of her,” said Crowley. “She and Shadwell bought a little bungalow together somewhere around here about five years ago. I don't know if she’ll drag that grumpy bastard along with her.”
“Now will you tell us the Plan?” said Adam. “I’d like to know what I’ve got into. Especially since I could get grounded for sneaking out.”
“You’re not the only one who wants to know, " said Nina. “Hey…where is Aziraphale?”
Crowley pointed at the back of the car which didn’t really answer Nina.
“He’s in the trunk” Maggie whispered to her in a way that sounded way too nonchalant for her girlfriend.
“He’s in the- what?”
“Oh, don’t worry, he’s got a tin of biscuits with him.” Crowley shrugged. “Where is the Book Witch and her Lizard Boy?” he sighed, irritated.
“Why is Aziraphale in the trunk?” Adam raised his eyebrows. His gaze kept on escaping to the back of the car, like he’d be able to see anything like this.
Nina crossed her arms on her chest.
“Will someone tell me if Aziraphale’s alright? Did you kidnap hi- angelnap him?” she asked, sending a death stare at the demon.
Maggie grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“Don’t worry, angel, it’s all in the name of love!”
“Oi!” Crowley interrupted, “You can’t call her that!”
Maggie raised her eyebrows.
“Of course I can! It’s been a universal couples nickname since- oh my god!”, she squealed, “Are you two the reason it’s a nickname?”
Crowley groaned. One could think that the demon was, in fact, blushing. He was saved from answering the question by Adam.
“Crowley. What’s going on?”
“Ngk,” the demon began and his face got even more red. “You see…”
“Can I tell them?” Maggie interrupted, voice buzzing with excitement.
“Yeah, uh, go ahead.”
“Crowley,” she stopped dramatically and continued in a stage whisper, “is going to propose to Aziraphale!”
A collective gasp came from everyone.
“Wh- why is he in the trunk then? Why are we all here?” Nina furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if it was all a fever dream after all.
“Weeeeell,” Crowley hesitated, “things didn’t exactly go to plan. So I came up with a way to fix it and this is where you all come in.”
1 hour earlier
Aziraphale eyed the white ensemble with distaste. Really, what was Crowley thinking? It was all a silly conversation among partners, a meaningless joke. They were laughing, and then out of nowhere Crowley grew red in the face and materialised the angel’s robes from Eden out of nowhere.
Sighing, he slipped the robe on, taking care not to mess up his hair and beard too much. Crowley had insisted he let him fix it for him, and the poor demon had put so much effort into it he didn’t have the heart to appear with a hair out of place.
The boot was… surprisingly comfortable. The door shut over his head carefully, and soon Aziraphale could feel the whirring of the engine as they sped through London.
“Let there be light,” he whispered with a snap, and the confined space was bathed in a warm, orange hue.
With a smile, he eyed the tin box of his favourite buttered biscuits in the corner, and a book — that up until recently had been resting on his nightstand — right on top of it. He reached out to them, settling against the cushions.
Just as he bit into the first biscuit, the treat already melting in his mouth, his head bumped up against the roof of the boot, then against the side.
“If you’re going to be reckless, let me out at once!” He huffed, barely keeping himself upright. “The brake pedal is not decorative, Crowley!”
He barely heard the demon’s response, but the Bentley did slow down slightly. Aziraphale looked around the car, noticing the small velvet cube lying in the corner. It must have fallen out of his robes in the rattling. He put it back in his breast pocket and tapped it with a smile.
Today was the day.
After what seemed like an hour, he heard a honk coming from behind them and the Bentley came to a stop, tyres screeching on gravel. Aziraphale braced himself, ready to be freed and quite eager to breath some fresh air again. It was a little stifling here in the trunk.
Much to his disappointment, it didn’t open. He waited patiently as voices he couldn’t recognise resounded around the car – at least two women, he thought, and a man, plus Crowley. He sighed to himself, tapping his foot down nervously.
What did the demon had in mind?
It had to be some kind of practical joke, or punishment for ruining their last date at the Ritz, but really… The place had been unusually quiet, and Aziraphale had simply lost his nerves, and after turning the little ring box in his pocket for the thousand time, not daring to bend the knee to finally ask the question burning his lips for thousands of years, he’d thrown a scene and had made them go home early.
Crowley had seemed more annoyed by this than he would usually have, now that Aziraphale had time to reflect on it. And time he had, as this conversation outside seemed to never bloody end!
Patience finally reaching its limits, the angel banged his fist on the inside of the trunk door.
“Crowley? Would you be so kind as to let me out?”
He heard a distinctive “Shit!” uttered by the demon, and rolled his eyes fondly. Whatever he had planned was obviously not ready, probably for reasons he’d brought on himself, and wasn’t it just like him?
Eventually, Aziraphale heard a click, and the trunk slowly opened.
“Hi Aziraphale!”
The angel blinked, surprised. “Adam?”
He looked around, trying to spot Crowley, but the demon was nowhere to be found.
Crowley was pacing around incessantly, clutching the tiny box in his hand. There was a lump in his throat and ants in their limbs and how did they even get in there. Who had allowed them to build their extensive nest in his spindly arms and legs? Crowley snarled, hoping to dissipate them—it didn't work. What use was being a demon when not even ants were scared of them?
In the distance, a white figure stepped out of the trunk of the Bentley and oh, wasn't he ethereal? Crowley stopped and stared, and everything else blurred. He was the angel of the Easter Wall, kind enough to indulge a demon. Unfazed by his serpentine body, and by his wily deeds. He had doomed humanity, and what had Aziraphale done? The angel had never blamed him. Instead, he had given the humans his blazing sword and continued to watch over them.
"Crowley," a voice said, way too close, shrill to ears that were expecting the soft lull of Aziraphale's. The demon jumped, looking around wildly. Anathema chuckled and raised her arms pacifyingly. "Breathe," she instructed, and the demon scowled before taking her advice. In, and out. In, and out. The ants in his arm retreated somewhat, giving space to a calming coolness.
Looking up again, he could see Aziraphale conversing with Adam, Nina, and Maggie. He could do this. They breathed. They could do this. But, alas, the insects weren't done with him. Their tongue lurked just behind their lips, his mouth ready to attack and feed on those damn critters. Where were Ms Tracy and Shadwell, damnit? He couldn't do this. The plan was ridiculous anyway. It would never work.
Through panicked thoughts, a calming hand settled on his back. Crowley looked up. Anathema smiled at them reassuringly. "You got this," she said in a rather conspiratorial tone, "Now go get him, tiger."
"Snake," Crowley corrected, and the witch fondly rolled her eyes.
Crowley gave a small nod to Anathema before turning away to miracle himself into long, flowing black robes. His hair grew long and wavy past his shoulders and he abandoned his sunglasses to the ether. Anxiously, he patted his robe pocket to find the ring safely stowed.
"Oh, no! I didn't bring enough candles," cried Maggie, some distance away, obscured by trees. Miniature, flickering orbs of light could be seen between the foliage.
"Don't ye worry, lass. 'Ve always got a candle," Shadwell announced, procuring one from his jacket.
"and a bell and a book and a pin," Madame Tracy sighed fondly, as she took the proffered candle from her husband and fixed it into the last remaining holder.
“Why does he carry all of those items?” inquired Nina across the small clearing, as she adjusted the finishing touches on their light display.
“Ye nevr know when you'll be meetin’ a witch!” responded Shadwell confidently. This did not aid in Nina's confusion, but she just shrugged.
“Now, dear,” cooed Madame Tracy, “it's almost time. Our boys should be heading this way very soon.” She took Shadwell by the arm and guided him to the side of the clearing, now lit with dozens of hanging candles. The nighttime dewy flora captured the glowing light, supplying a garden scene straight out of a fairy tale.
Crowley straightened his robes, tucked an errant curl behind his ear, and took a deep, unnecessary breath. “Showtime,” he said to himself and strode over to where Aziraphale was still standing awkwardly by the Bentley with Adam.
—-
Aziraphale turned at the soft crunch of footsteps on the grass behind him and he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Crowley was an absolute vision, striding towards him in raiment Aziraphale had not seen him wear in millenia. He knew his face must look besotted and he tried to rein it into a more bland and proper expression.
Crowley came to a stop beside him and lifted a hand in invitation. Gesturing to the mysterious lights in the wood with his other, he said, “Care to join me for a stroll, angel?”
Aziraphale laid his hand on Cowley's proffered arm. “Lead the way, my dear.”
He would have sworn that Crowley's smile was actually shy as they began walking towards the trees.
—-
Adam, standing unnoticed where he'd been left by the Bentley, chuckled and trailed in their wake. How were these two only just now getting properly together? Anyone could see they only had eyes for each other.
Crowley had imagined this moment for so long, a garden settlement that resembled the place where it all began, where he fell in love with Aziraphale nearly 6,000 years ago. When Aziraphale showed his will to give away his flaming sword and even lie about it to God herself. In the garden of Eden he felt loved for the first time, like the fallen demon he had become.
His eyes, almost golden in the light of hundreds of hanging lamps, his heart was beating fast, he felt alive.
“Crowley?” The tone of Aziraphale's voice made Crowley believe he was nervous about what still needed to be done. Crowley took in Aziraphale's face once more, he would remember it forever, until eternity made them forget. Aziraphale had a kind face and a soft smile, a little unsure of what to expect.
Crowley felt a dark gloom come over him, a doubt, “What if Aziraphale said no?”
-' The quotes keep running through his head, statements that Aziraphale once made. We're hereditary enemies, I don't even like you', 'You, I'm afraid, are evil' Crowley didn't notice these sad thoughts, letting his bare feet stop walking until he felt the fresh grass between his toes.
Tears formed in his eyes, he looked up and avoided the angel's gaze, 'what if his proposal ruins the 6000 years of infatuation with the only angel he would ever give his heart to, presented, going down on one knee with a shining gold ring. To finally ask to be his dearest, ineffable husband. Until all the stars fall from the sky, he couldn't think of living a life without Aziraphale. Why was he cursed to love?
“Aziraphale, I'm really sorry, but I - uh.” Crowley lifted his head, from the tears falling down.
He swallowed, grabbed the angel's soft, stiff arms, and in a moment of desperation, touched his aching chest to the gentle angel's. His hot, angry lips, salted by his tear-stained cheeks on the dry little lips of pure holiness.
Crowley feels Aziraphale pull away only seconds later and their heart beats entirely too loudly in their chest at the movement. Those doubts continue to peck away at him, gaining more of his attention as he seeks out blue eyes in the dim lighting.
“Angel, I-“
“Oh, Crowley dear,” Aziraphale interrupts softly but with just enough push in his voice to quiet the demon. “When will you ever learn?”
“Wot?” Crowley hears themselves ask.
The angel only chuckles. Hands slip from his grasp and Crowley has to remind his skin to stay skin. As he watches, Aziraphale drops to a knee in front of him and Crowley-
Warm fingers brush against his own. “I will always be by your side, you silly demon. As long as you’ll have me there.”
A box appears in the angel’s other hand and Crowley feels his breath catch in his chest. “Wot?” He repeats, words still lost.
The demon can only watch as Aziraphale opens the box and shows off a beautiful black ring, a golden snake etched around the center, standing out starkly. A chorus of gasps behind the pair reminds Crowley briefly of the crowd watching this whole affair, but they only have eyes for the being in front of them.
“Please dearest,” Aziraphale continues, blue eyes sparkling. “Take this and finally let yourself believe in us.”
Breaths he certainly does not need to be taking come too fast, spots dance in front of his vision, and Crowley can feel himself swaying as he finally tears his eyes away from the ring.
“Angel,” he whispers. “How dare you ruin my plan!”
Aziraphale blinks at him, hands faltering a little with the ring. “I’m—sorry?”
“My plan,” Crowley moans, sinking to the ground beside him. “I’ve been working on this for months! Possibly millennia, if you think about it! Finding the perfect place, getting all these humans together—”
“We’re right here,” Anathema interjects from the clearing ahead.
“—and I was going to—in the trees, with the doves and the lilies and the star fireworks—and we—and you had to go and beat me to it, you absolute bastard.”
Aziraphale smiles, then. It’s a beautiful bastard smile, the smile of a rogue angel who knows exactly what he’s about. “Well, I do hope you’ll... forgive me.”
“Never.” Crowley reaches into their robe’s pocket and grabs their own little box. Trembling hands and a swallow in their long throat belie their flippant words. “You’ll have to—to marry me first.”
Aziraphale gasps and covers his mouth with both hands, dropping the ring box.
Crowley snatches it before it hits the ground, and looks puzzled to find himself now holding two rings. “Angel?”
“Yes,” Aziraphale blurts out. “Yes, of course, oh, you silly—” And then they’re kissing, and holding each other, and sobbing in between and on top of the kisses, and it looks as though they might never let go.
From the candlelit clearing, which the pair hadn’t quite yet made it to, Adam nods in a matter-of-fact sort of way. “It's about time, I reckon.”
“Yes.” Anathema smiles and takes the hand of Newt, who had slipped in quietly beside her. Nearby, Tracy dabs her eyes with a pink handkerchief that’s slowly turning green with eyeshadow. Even Shadwell is clearing his throat in a suspiciously emotional way. “Hey,” Anathema calls to the insensibly entwined couple still kneeling in the mulch along the path. “Come on into your garden paradise, you two.”
That night, the world celebrated the Love of two beings that had always been as one, no matter how far away they were. The world celebrated being able to finally say it, celebrated releasing a breath after holding it for millenia.
The two of them had walked all of Earth, had watched as the world changed, as the time passed, as history evolved. From the first lights to exist, from the first human to ever be born, they had been there, side by side, walking among them. It only made sense that it would be among humans that they'd choose to put into words the feeling that they began cultivating even before time; not among the ethereal or the occult, and not under God.
(Though, if asked, She would've given Her blessing.)
That night, they choose each other one more time.
Words have only the meaning you attribute them to. Words like "spouse" or "partner" aren't really enough to encompass all that time, all the moments they had chosen one another before. However, much as time and the fabric of reality bent to the two beings' will, that night those words folded in on themselves, collapsed into a singular point and in an explosion expanded to embrace the whole universe of their lives.
Love had turned into verb, and the verb had turned into flesh – two hands intertwined under an apple tree, the first one to ever existed, preserved (maybe miraculously, maybe under threats) by a demon that was decidedly too emotional.
The fire that the angel gifted humanity so long ago flicked in the candles adorning the clearing, and the humans sat around them, in a picnic they had promised each other long ago.
"My world is only whole with you" one of them said.
"The world is only whole with Us". The other answered.
A golden snake wrapped around one's finger, silver wings on the other's.
And that was that; nothing changed, for that Love had always been there, among humans or not.
✨AUTHORS✨
[ Contribution 1 ]
[ Contribution 1 ]
bellisima_writes • Tumblr• Ao3
Obsidian • Ao3