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Like a musical conductor, Aziraphale waved his hand about and watched as the book shelves spun themselves around to the curtains that hadn’t been there before. All to set the mood if you will. And to keep his books away from the guests coming in of course.
“What are you doing?” Aziraphale looked to where the voice was coming from and found Crowley making his way down the stairs.
He had got so caught up in ball preparations he had forgotten the occult being had come in to talk to Jim. A surprise but one that was welcomed. “Just making space for-,” He glanced at the demon's eyes for a second before prompting looking back at this work. “-everything that needs to happen,”
“You’re up to something I can smell it,” Crowley glanced between the new curtained bookshelves and Aziraphale. “What are you planning?”
“Wait a see~,” Aziraphale sang.
Aziraphale tried, and failed, to push the corners of his mouth back down. Compared to all the hijinks they got up to together, this little moment probably won’t stand out to him after a week or two but it warmed him inside. He wished Crowley was around more to witness things he did.
Crowley didn’t need to comment or even involve himself. Though Aziraphale didn’t mind when he did. What he wanted, at least, was Crowley’s presence. He wanted Crowley to witness him and to witness Crowley as well. Or something domestic like that.
Although right now was not the best time for such drabble. This night was for Nina and Maggie. “Wait and see?” Crowley uttered back. “Any idea how irritating that is?”
“Yes, now,” Aziraphale spun to put a hand on Crowley’s back and ushered the demon forward. He loved Crowley but right now he needed to concentrate. “If you’re going to stand there and just carp, perhaps you could check in on Nina and Maggie and make sure they are on their way,” Aziraphale lightly nudged Crowley forward, but not without having his hands follow the others back for a moment. Small affections and all.
Aziraphale heard the bell ring as the door was closed and turned back to the scene he was trying to set. With his arms open, a miraculous gleaming chandelier dropped down meters above the floor.
“Perfect,” Aziraphale brushed his hands together, thinking of what to grab next.
Candles! That’s what.
The electric kind Crowley had introduced him to of course. With a quick miracle or two he could change the spare ones he had into the perfect centerpiece. As Aziraphale pictured what the candelabra would look like, his mind started to drift back to his previous drabble.
I mean Crowley has been coming around a lot more, but normally to drink or go out somewhere new. And of course I appreciate that!
Aziraphale tried to correct himself as if he was telling this to someone. A by-product of prayer maybe.
But I wish… wish one day he could be around while I’m organizing or brewing tea. Don’t have to do anything. Just continue to be an “us”.
The gears in Aziraphale’s head turned more as he grabbed a box of electric candles out the backroom, and put it on in the middle of the dance floor.
I mean, guess I could invite him to stay with me. Say how the Bentley might appreciate it more.
With a wave of his hand the electric candle became much more like a mini chandelier on a pole than a candelabra. Worst yet, Aziraphale hadn’t noticed.
Right, it wouldn’t be suspicious at all. Just friends helping each other in times of need. I mean Crowley has saved me countless times. It’s just repaying a favor.
His thoughts halted when he saw the centerpiece he had miracled. It was beautiful and oh so romantic looking. Gold plated the bits that were not either glass, or the hard plastic of the pole. The same gold color as his back room, the bookshop’s pillars, and the shade of gold he had turned the Bentley. It was perfect but wasn’t the problem.
The problem was he hadn’t meant to do that.
Oh right.
And just like that his plan ran into two issues.
- . There’s no guarantee Crowley would want to casually gravitate around each other. It wasn’t really part of their friendship dynamic after all.
And 2. All those times Aziraphale had caught himself from blurting out how he loved the demon would be much harder to stop if the demon was around more.
Aziraphale put his hands together in front of his vest but it did little to stop the fidgeting.
Or, I could just tell him how I feel.
If a ball and some formal dancing worked on humans, who’s to say it wouldn’t work on them? A quick gavotte and one fabulous kiss later- and well Vavoom! For all 4 of them!
If he wasn’t already driven before, now it felt like he could keep pace with a train.
“Jim, could you come down here a moment?” Aziraphale called, placing more electric candles near the curtains.
After a moment or two- “Yes?” Jim came down the spiral stairs. “Ohhh would you look at that. Is Wednesday over early today?”
“Hmh, not quiet but I do need your help this evening-,” Aziraphale paused when he noticed the new mug of hot chocolate in Jim’s hand. “W- What’s that?”
“Hot chocolate,” Jim simply answered.
A perfectly fine answer if Jim knew how to prepare hot chocolate but Aziraphale hadn’t even told him what milk was. “I see,” He bit back lingering snark. “I mean, where did you get it?”
“Ahh, Crowley gave it to me,” Jim smiled.
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Aziraphale felt a tad guilty for wondering if Crowley had it in him to peacefully talk to the former archangel.
“Yaaaaaa,” Jim happily sipped the last bit from his mug. “Do you think Crowley' s nice?”
As a rule, angel and demon corporations did not have human blood running through them. Their corporations mimicked the look of blood running through them however. For example Aziraphale knew that the apples of his checks often got red on them when he was excited but it was all the aesthetic of having blood.
Though… something rushed to his face when Jim asked him that. “How do you mean?”
“Well I called him nice cause he made me hot chocolate,” Jim started. “Sounded like he disagreed but didn’t finish and said no one would believe me if I told them,”
And just like that he felt silly again. “Oh,” Aziraphale popped up his hand by his face. “I thought that’s what you meant. Don’t mind him. He is quite nice. He just doesn't like hearing it,” The memory of Crowley pushing him against a wall in the former satanic church in retaliation came to mind.
Actually… There’s a thought.