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”What the f— Angel! Would you come into the garden?”
Aziraphale took his time to come out of the cottage and when he did, he had a puzzled look on his face.
“Yes, darling?”
“Look at this junk someone has left outside,” Crowley pointed at the piles of miscellaneous things that covered most of the grass on both sides of the stairs leading to the house. Some of it was thrown in the flowerbeds. “They’ve messed up the Bentley too.”
Crowley began picking up the things placed on top of the car.
“That is mysterious,” Aziraphale said. Crowley could hear a smile in his voice, but when he turned to look, the angel, well, technically a former angel, looked as serious as solving the situation deserved. “Who’d leave food out like this? What if it started raining?”
“They’ve dropped apples from the tree into the ground too,” Crowley growled, after he’d made sure the Bentley was clean and unscratched. Picking up one of the glass bottles, he shrugged, flipped the top open and took a swig. It was some kind of homemade cider. Not bad either.
“I think the apples are still okay to eat,” Aziraphale said and took one from the ground. He shrugged and started collecting the apples into one of the empty dishes in the pile of rubbish. “Do you think these pies are meant for us? Are they safe to eat?”
Crowley snorted.
“You think someone left poisoned pies into our garden? Joke’s on them, I’ve had worse poisons and lived to tell the tale,” he pointed out. He walked next to Aziraphale and glared at the pile of things before he picked up a snow globe.
“What is that?” Aziraphale put the apple he was holding in a bowl and leaned close to look at the object.
“It looks— it looks like our cottage,” Crowley murmured. The glass ball had two garden chairs in front of a house resembling theirs. It was dark as if it was night inside the ball even though the sun was shining in Crowley and Aziraphale’s garden.
“Does it look like those human shapes are moving?” Aziraphale asked, hand on Crowley’s arm. “Fascinating.”
Crowley couldn’t help himself. He shook the ball vigorously, and it started to snow inside it.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale scolded him but Crowley just grinned and stole a kiss from him.
“You love me.”
“I do, my dear. But what happened to those humans inside the snow globe?”
Crowley glanced at it and saw two human shapes move surprisingly quickly towards the house inside the ball.
“They’re fine,” Crowley said and prepared to ditch the ball back into the pile.
“Don’t you dare. Do you want to clean up the glass shards from the grass?” Aziraphale asked, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, okay,” Crowley agreed and put the snow globe aside. “Do you want to try those pies? They could be, I don’t know, made from human meat. Remember the musical we went to see where they baked people into pies?”
“My dear, why would anyone leave human pies in our garden? Let me see,” Aziraphale took a spoon from a tea set placed on top of a round table and scooped a piece out of a pie. “Mmm, cherry.”
“Let me have some too,” Crowley said, borrowed Aziraphale’s spoon, and tasted another pie. “Classic apple, this one. Don’t taste any laudanum.”
“I think we should clean up some of this trash before the wind blows it all over the garden,” Aziraphale said. “Would you be so kind and take the food items inside and into the refrigerator?”
“Not kind,” Crowley mumbles without much conviction.
“Thank you. I promise to make it worth your while,” Aziraphale said, pressing a kiss on his cheek.
“Promises, promises,” Crowley said in a sing-song voice while starting to gather the pies.
“Have I ever left you unsatisfied?”
“There was one time in the Ritz bathroom.”
“My dear, we were interrupted by a worker,” Aziraphale said. “Did you want to get banned from the Ritz?”
Crowley grinned. Their intimate life was never boring. Being able to choose the parts and his angel being rather inventive in that department, kept things interesting. Lately Aziraphale discovered something called omegaverse. That’d kept them busy for a few weeks.
“I’ll take these inside.”
“I think I saw some cheese and grapes there too,” Aziraphale said.
“Nice. That’s your evening snack sorted then.”
Aziraphale murmured something about having Crowley for a snack as he began to organize the piles.