Chapter Text
By this point, it was undeniable: winter festivities had been settling into the city for a couple of months now, but by mid-December, the so-called Christmas spirit seemed a little more real and a little less like a marketing excuse.
The shops were more crowded than usual, and walking through the streets had become nearly impossible. Everywhere one went, there were jingling bells and hyperactive pianos, and not a single establishment failed to smell of cinnamon or gingerbread.
Oh! And the lights. So many lights.
Even on Whickber Street, they had been put up weeks earlier. By unanimous vote, each shopkeeper had agreed to decorate their own storefront however they pleased, while the general street lighting would remain simpler so as not to overshadow their efforts. That way, they hoped the contrast with the neighbouring Chinatown’s explosion of colour would draw a bit more attention to their own businesses.
Nevertheless, with only a few days left until Christmas, the façade of the old A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop still remained impertinently bare of any trace of festive decoration — something that did not seem to please certain shopkeepers in the slightest.
One morning, after a couple of weeks away, the Bentley parked in front of the coffee shop, and out stepped the owner of the bookshop and his partner.
“Today’s the day, I’m telling you,” Mr Brown declared, indignantly folding his newspaper as he headed towards the counter, coffee in hand. “The moment they walk through that door, I shall make sure to remind them of their aesthetic duty towards the neighbourhood.”
“Don’t be too harsh on them, Arthur,” Maggie pleaded gently. “They’ve been terribly busy with the move, and their new house is rather far away.”
“You’re not suggesting Mr Fell intends to close the shop, are you?” Mr Brown asked at once.
“I’d say Mr Fell would rather go to hell than part with his bookshop,” Nina replied before taking a sip of coffee. “But he’s right, Maggie. Christmas is practically here, and they ought to stick to what we agreed at the last neighbourhood meeting. Only fair.”
“Well said, Nina! I shall notify them immediately,” Mr Brown announced.
But before he could take a single step, Maggie rested a kind hand on his shoulder.
“Leave it to me, Mr Brown. Besides, I’m sure they could use a warm drink in this weather.”
Within seconds, Maggie was already standing outside the bookshop carrying a cup of coffee and another of tea. Before she could even realise that knocking on the door with both hands occupied might prove difficult, the door abruptly swung open and shut again.
Startled, Maggie dropped both cups. They crashed onto the ground, splashing their contents all over the steps, her shoes, the hems of her trousers, and naturally, Crowley’s as well.
“Uh, hang on,” Crowley muttered.
With a light snap of his fingers, everything reassembled itself. The drinks returned neatly to their cups, and every trace of stain vanished.
“Oh! Thank you, Mr Crowley. It’s lovely to see you both back in the neighbourhood! Coffee?” Maggie offered, already quite accustomed to the peculiar powers of her dear friends.
“Sure,” Crowley exclaimed, taking the cup and downing it in one go.
“You’re leaving already?” Maggie asked as she watched him head down the steps.
Crowley walked towards the car without answering. Curious, Maggie followed him with her eyes and saw him take something out of the glove compartment. A few seconds later, he was standing in front of her again.
“Is everything alright?” the young woman asked once more.
“This is for him, yeah?” Crowley said, nodding towards the tea in her hands.
Maggie nodded, and Crowley quickly opened the door, set the cup down on Aziraphale’s desk, and stepped back outside, shutting the door rather forcefully behind him.
“Right, you’re acting strange. What’s wro—?”
“Shhh! Don’t want him hearing us!”
“You mean Mr Fell?”
“Shhh! Yes, ‘course I mean him. Who else would I mean? Now, I need your opinion on something,” Crowley whispered sharply, lowering his voice as he slipped a hand into the pocket of his tight trousers.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t feel comfortable keeping secrets from— OH MY GOD!”
“SHHH!”
Maggie clapped both hands over her mouth, and with watery brightness shining in her eyes, she repeated in a whisper:
“Oh my God!”
“Right. That’s the reaction I’m hoping for. Not from you, obviously, but from, well…” Crowley gestured vaguely with his head. “You know. Think he’ll like it?”
“Like it?! Oh, I’m certain nothing could make him happier!” Maggie exclaimed with a laugh escaping her.
“Ah-ah. Try taking him to an antique auction,” the demon replied dryly.
While Maggie admired the gold band more closely, Crowley asked:
“Tell me… d’you think he’ll agree to wear it?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Got a few theories of my own…” Crowley muttered uncertainly.
“Oh, come on. You’ve been together literally forever. It’s not as though this step is really going to change anything.”
“Ngk…”
At that exact moment, the bookshop door opened once more, and Aziraphale stepped outside, tea cup in hand.
“Crowley, you’re here! Maggie! I was just about to—”
Then, noticing the golden gleam inside the little red box Maggie was holding, his eyes widened in astonishment.
“Good Lord,” he breathed. “Is that what I think it is?”
Maggie shot Crowley a nervous glance, while he forced a strained smile and made an urgent motion with his head.
“Er… Uh… Is it…?” Maggie stammered.
“An engagement ring! Is it for Nina?”
“For Nina?” Maggie repeated weakly, still in shock.
“Oh, but of course it is! What a silly question,” Aziraphale laughed warmly. Then, lowering his voice as excitement sparkled in his eyes, he murmured:
“But if you haven’t proposed yet, don’t you worry. Your secret is safe with us.”
The angel gave Maggie a conspiratorial wink, then repeated the gesture towards Crowley, who had to physically force himself to respond with a series of unintelligible affirmative noises that slowly transformed into actual words.
“Well, yes, obviously! ’Course it’s for Nina, isn’t it, Maggie?”
Maggie, wearing an uncomfortable smile and a slight frown, turned towards the demon, who encouraged her with an eager nod.
“Oh. Well, yes. Um. This ring is…” Maggie sighed. “It’s for Nina. Though I’d actually come here to—”
“She came to share the good news, didn’t you, Maggie?” Crowley interrupted, throwing an arm around her shoulders with forced camaraderie.
“Er, yes, of course… I, uh… Did you like the tea?” Maggie asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“My dear girl, what are you saying? Come along, all of you, inside at once! Nina might see us out here!” Aziraphale interrupted, ushering them indoors. Still chattering excitedly, he continued:
“I shall make more tea. Oh! Better yet — Crowley, dear, fetch a bottle of champagne. Any bottle you like. This calls for celebration!”
The toast, much to Crowley’s relief, did not last long.
“Naturally, you’ll be wanting a gift,” Aziraphale offered brightly.
“Oh, no, really, there’s no need!” Maggie replied, disguising her discomfort as best she could.
“Oh, but there absolutely is! I understand that in some cases people even make lists of desired presents. And I can think of no better time than Christmas to discuss gifts. Oh! Which reminds me…”
At that, Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s hand and, clasping it between both of his own, announced in an excitedly high voice:
“We’re hosting our very first Christmas dinner in our little cottage! Ta-daaa!”
“Yeah, and you and Nina are invited,” Crowley added, putting on his very best smile.
“Oh! Thank you so much,” Maggie replied, already feeling somewhat lighter again. “Just tell us what we ought to bring and we’ll be there. Though, speaking of Christmas, have you noticed how lovely all the shopfronts on the street look?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m afraid we haven’t yet— Oh! The decorations!” Aziraphale exclaimed.
He jumped to his feet and hurried towards the window, from where he admired his neighbours’ creative efforts.
The railing outside the French restaurant had been decorated rather elegantly with garlands and icicle lights, while Nina’s coffee shop displayed garlands hung with ornaments shaped like coffee cups, biscuits, and little sponge cakes covered in glitter and colourful paint. Hanging on the door, a felt doughnut serving as a Christmas wreath held a tiny golden bell and a sprig of mistletoe at its centre.
Taking advantage of the angel’s distraction, Crowley sidled over to Maggie and silently mouthed:
“Give me the ring.”
She handed it over at once, and in the blink of an eye Crowley had slipped it back into his trouser pocket just before Aziraphale turned around again.
“The coffee shop looks wonderful, Maggie.”
“I knew you’d like it, Mr Fell. Though it wouldn’t hurt if you did the same for the bookshop façade. Some of the neighbours haven’t been terribly pleased to see that the chairman of the last neighbourhood meeting still hasn’t decorated his shop at this point,” Maggie said, standing up and setting her empty glass down on a nearby table.
“Oh, of course! You may count on it,” Aziraphale assured her, glancing meaningfully at Crowley and thereby including him in the task. “And afterwards, if you don’t already have plans, we would be delighted to invite you to dinner. Perhaps then you can ask the big question.”
Realising the predicament Maggie was about to find herself in, she started:
“Actually—”
Crowley gave a tiny shake of his head, his expression openly pleading.
“…We’d love to, Mr Fell,” Maggie finished with a sigh. “But until then, I think you two have quite a lot to do. If you need any help, I could lend a hand with the decorations once you’ve brought the ornaments over. And I can ask Mr Brown for his stepladder.”
“Thank you, Maggie!”
“…Thanks, Maggie,” Crowley echoed.
She nodded, and just as she was about to step out the door, Aziraphale called after her:
“And Maggie! Nina is going to say yes, I assure you!”