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go_exchange2017-12-27 01:03 pm
goe_mod) wrote in go_exchange2017-12-27 01:03 pm
Entry tags:
Happy Holidays, doe-in-headlights!
Title: The Mistletoe Mystery
Summary: It’s been five years since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t and suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are terrorised by mistletoe that magically appears everywhere they go.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Recipient: doe-in-headlights
A/N: Happy holidays, doe-in-headlights! Hope you’ll like this story, I combined two of your prompts. :)
The Mistletoe Mystery
Crowley was not sure how, but Aziraphale had convinced him to accompany him to a high-end clothing shop, because apparently the angel needed new suits for the upcoming holidays. Why he couldn’t just make them magically appear like every other supernatural being, was beyond Crowley.
With the promise of treating Crowley to coffee and cake afterwards, Aziraphale dragged the demon to a mall. There were so many people already and they silently wondered whether everyone was on their day off or if these people didn’t have to work.
“They sure aren’t sparing the Christmas decoration,” Crowley grumbled.
“It is a bit harsh on the eyes, but look, they used real mistletoe too. That’s rather nice, gives a more genuine feeling,” Aziraphale said, hooking his arm through Crowley’s.
When they finally located Aziraphale’s preferred shop ‒ which looked exactly like the kind of overpriced and stuck-up store only people over fifty shopped at ‒ there was a young, way too cheery employee waiting for them by the entrance.
“Welcome to Ethelwulf’s. Gentlemen, you’re very lucky today, you stopped under our special mistletoe,” she sing-sang, flashing them a brilliant smile as she pointed at the bunch strung up above them.
Crowley blinked from behind his sunglasses. “So?”
“Well, you know, the kissing tradition,” she laughed nervously.
“Fine, fine,” Crowley said, turning his head to plant a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek, but it seemed like the angel had the same idea and they almost ended up kissing each other on the mouth.
“Sorry, Crowley,” Aziraphale laughed, blushing as he quickly pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek.
The demon blushed too and glared at the employee, making the top button of her shirt loose so that next time she touched it, it would fall off. Aziraphale took off, his attention caught by several shirts and coats. He took some with him in the changing room, indicating to Crowley where he was going.
Aziraphale was just buttoning his second shirt when suddenly Crowley barged in with a panicked expression.
“What’s the matter?” Aziraphale asked, looking at Crowley from the mirror.
Crowley pushed his sunglasses up. “I don’t get why you like this shop so much, it’s so damn weird. Everywhere I went there were employees asking if I needed help and there’s like mistletoe everywhere. It’s insane.”
“You’re paranoid, my dear boy,” Aziraphale said and smiled at the way Crowley crossed his arms and glared at him.
“Or am I?” Crowley pointed up and there, indeed, was another mistletoe hanging, its green leaves and white berries just gleaming suspiciously.
“Alright, that is indeed unusual, I’ll admit,” Aziraphale said slowly. “Why would they hang it in a changing room? Usually it’s just one person inside.”
“Your fancy clothing shop is just bonkers. Ethelwulf, what kind of name is even that?” Crowley mumbled, pushing his sunglasses back as he checked the angel’s new shirt. He had to admit the peach colour went very well with his dark complexion.
“It means noble wolf,” Aziraphale said, then cleared his throat. “Crowley, if you wouldn’t mind, the space is kind of crowded…”
“Oh, right, of course. I haven’t forgotten about tea and cakes, by the way,” the demon added with a grin before leaving the changing room.
________________________________________
The strange mistletoe incident was soon forgotten for a while and everything got back to normal. Aziraphale invited Crowley to St. James’s Park and the demon accepted. He even brought a bag of dry bread with him to feed the ducks.
It was a rather grey and gloomy day, but that didn’t stop the secret agents from strolling in the park.
“You know, Adam called the other day. Said Pepper is organising a secret birthday party for Anathema’s birthday,” Aziraphale said, watching the ducks shake their tails as they got out from the water and wobbled to them.
“Oh really? I suppose we’re invited to it?”
“Of course. It’s next Saturday and Adam specified that we should get in the car at three o’clock sharp.”
Crowley frowned. “Alright, strange request.”
“I suppose he wants everyone to get there in time, so we can all hide while Newt and Anathema get home from their outing,” Aziraphale said, throwing bread to the ducks.
“Alright, well, you’re responsible for the present.”
“Why me?” Aziraphale shook his head, giving the last pieces to the ducks and stepping back, under a chestnut tree. “Your side is more into esotericism.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Crowley bumped his shoulder against the angel’s, joining him under the tree as he felt a drop of rain on his hand. “Do you think it will rain?”
They both looked up, but instead of looking at the sky, their gaze landed on a bunch of mistletoe, tied with a red string.
“That’s odd.”
“Is this some kind of joke? Why are we followed by bloody mistletoe?!”
Aziraphale tapped Crowley’s shoulder. “Don’t be paranoid. Look, there’s mistletoe on every tree. Must be one of those groups that wants peace and love in the world.”
“Well, they could spread it somewhere else,” Crowley grumbled and dragged the angel to the car.
________________________________________
On Saturday, Crowley parked in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop ten minutes to three. He went inside, ignoring the closed signed intended for clients, and called out.
“Hey, angel, you ready?”
“Yes, yes, let me just get the present. You got the flowers?”
“The bouquet’s in the car, no worries.”
They had agreed that Aziraphale would get her a book about witchcraft or occultism, while Crowley purchased flowers. As per Adam’s request, they left when it was three o’clock, and the roads were uncharacteristically empty, probably due to some of his influence.
“Huh, he really wants us to get there in time, doesn’t he?”
“Probably so. Do you mind if I put on some music?” Aziraphale asked.
“No, suit yourself. Though I’m not sure if you’ll find anything besides Queen.”
Aziraphale showed a Beethoven tape to Crowley. “Let’s try this one.”
However, when the angel tried to push in the cassette, it wouldn’t slide into the slot. “What on Earth,” he murmured, leaning down to get a proper look.
“What’s happening there, angel?”
“I’m not sure, something is stuck,” Aziraphale said, moving his index finger and trying to take out the object restricting the tape.
He finally produced a small twig with two small leaves.
“Bloody mistletoe!” Crowley hissed, taking the twig from Aziraphale and throwing it out the window. “How did it get there?!”
“Seems like we’re followed by it. Why would anyone put it in the cassette slot, though?”
“To mess with us, obviously! I’ll catch that bastard!” Crowley pinched his lips and gave full throttle.
“Try not to kill us in the meantime,” Aziraphale said and put his hand on Crowley’s forearm, the touch soothing the demon. “We’ll think of something.”
________________________________________
Crowley had to leave the Bentley by Adam’s house, who somehow made it blend in with the surroundings, so that Anathema wouldn’t notice when she got home.
“How are you, Adam? Everything fine at school?” Aziraphale asked as the teenager pushed the duo inside Anathema’s house.
“Yes, yes, just keep quiet. They will get here soon.”
Crowley and Aziraphale stumbled in the dark room, Aziraphale stepping on Brian’s hand and Crowley almost tripping over Pepper’s outstretched legs. Wensleydale made sure to scoot back to the wall as the angel and demon sat down beside Adam.
“They will get home in a couple of minutes and when they turn the lights on, we jump up and yell ‘surprise’, alright?” Adam said and everyone nodded, even though it was dark.
Luckily, everything went according to plan and Anathema laughed as she saw her guests. She hugged everyone and graciously accepted Aziraphale and Crowley’s gifts. Someone put on music and there was party food everywhere. Since it was organised by Pepper, she didn’t think of alcohol, but Aziraphale made one of the juice bottles into red wine, pouring it generously for every adult.
“Cheers!”
Crowley was almost halfway done with the glass when he suddenly choked as he noticed a mistletoe hanging from a kitchen cupboard.
“Are you alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, patting his back.
“Mistletoe.”
Aziraphale’s eyes darkened. “Maybe the culprit is someone who is present.”
“That’d be me,” Anathema raised her hand. “I put it all around the house. It’s an old Celtic tradition, it brings good luck and prosperity.”
“So these were hung before we got here?”
“Yes, of course, I did it a few days ago,” Anathema looked at the angel and demon as if they were crazy. She grabbed Newt’s hand and they went to talk to Pepper.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other and concluded that this was just a crazy coincidence and that maybe they were just paranoid. They continued eating and drinking, their bottle never becoming empty. The atmosphere was so good that they ended up quite tipsy a few hours later. When Anathema called everyone to get their slice of cake, Crowley almost slipped. Luckily, Aziraphale was slightly more sober and caught him.
Crowley looked up from Aziraphale’s broad chest and laughed as he noticed that they were under the mistletoe dangling from the lamp.
“Look, Zira, mistle-mistletoe,” he giggled.
“I can see it. Although I don’t think it was there just a minute ago.”
“Christmas miracle,” Crowley hiccupped and buried his nose in the crook of the angel’s neck, breathing in his vanilla smell. His lips gently kissed the sensitive skin under the angel’s jaw and grabbed onto Aziraphale’s biceps for stability.
“Let’s get some cake,” the angel said, blushing.
Later, when they sobered up before driving home, Crowley was slightly appalled by his bold gesture, but since the angel didn’t mention it, he kept his mouth shut as well. By the time they got back to London, he almost made himself believe that it didn’t even happen.
________________________________________
Life went on normally, or as normally as it could. Crowley made sure he was busy for a few days, got in a few misdeeds as Christmas was approaching. Fortunately, there was no mistletoe around him, although he’d noticed that the cursed plant only appeared when he was around Aziraphale.
Someone really wanted them to kiss, which made Crowley sigh. He really wanted that too, but Aziraphale was oblivious to his desires. It had been over five years now since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t, but they still haven’t had an honest conversation about their ambiguous relationship. This was far beyond friendship, but Crowley didn’t dare to say anything, afraid that he’d ruin everything, that it would make their relationship crumble.
So just as they had been doing for many years, Crowley picked Aziraphale up in the evening, silently admiring how well his dark blue suit hugged his round form.
“What is it?” Aziraphale asked when he noticed Crowley staring at him.
“Nothing, but please close the door, don’t let all the cold in,” Crowley mumbled, hoping that his blush wasn’t visible in the dim light of the street.
When they made it to the Ritz, Crowley looked around for mistletoe, but the restaurant was luckily very much mistletoe free. After a couple of tense minutes while Crowley scanned the room, he concluded that the space was safe. He could finally enjoy a nice evening without having to worry about anything.
They ate their dinner and consumed a good rosé wine, talking about everything and nothing. The waiter asked them whether they would like dessert and even Crowley ordered a white chocolate parfait with caramelised almonds, though he didn’t have a sweet tooth. Aziraphale sighed and as he reached for his cloth napkin, he accidentally knocked the dessert fork off the table.
“I’ll get that,” Crowley hurriedly said as he pushed his chair back.
“No, no, it’s alright,” Aziraphale said at the same time and he too was ready to look for the missing cutlery.
Just as Crowley dropped onto his knees and lifted the long, white tablecloth to get under the table, he noticed that Aziraphale was doing the same. They looked at each other for a moment before they both started laughing at how ridiculous they were.
“Can you see it?” the angel asked, looking around with furrowed brows.
“No.” Crowley felt the carpet, but he couldn’t find the fork.
“Oh no, this is beyond ridiculous,” Aziraphale murmured and when Crowley looked up from the carpet there was suddenly a bunch of mistletoe magically glued under the tabletop, one of the leaves even touching his nose.
The demon crawled back a bit, yanking on the offensive plant until it came off. “Someone is seriously after us.”
“They must have been following us,” Aziraphale whispered, sitting back on his haunches. “Just think back, on every occasion it was in a ridiculous place, a very specific one. That cannot be coincidental.”
Crowley nodded. “They must be here. One of the customers maybe. How could we catch this bastard, though?”
“What if we pretend that they were successful?” Aziraphale asked, wringing his hands.
“You mean with this?” Crowley waved at the remnants of the poor mistletoe.
“Yes, that we… you know, that we kissed.”
Crowley stared at Aziraphale. “You know, we’ve been down here for a while now, angel.”
“Well, maybe it was an exceptional kiss… or kisses.”
“Then we have to make it look like that,” Crowley grinned, scooting closer to Aziraphale.
“My dear boy, what are you doing?”
“Just making your bowtie look a bit askew and your shirt a bit crumpled. You know, from us making out.” Crowley’s smile widened. “Keep the blush too.”
Suddenly, Aziraphale’s fingers were in Crowley’s hair.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, you also have to look affected, not just me,” the angel replied, messing up Crowley’s perfect hair. “There. You should also keep the blush.”
Crowley just shook his head. “Okay, let’s get back to our seats. And don’t freak out if I take your hand, okay? It’s just for the show.”
“Yes, yes.”
Aziraphale snorted when he saw that the fork was somehow on the table again and showed it to Crowley.
“You’re so clumsy, angel,” Crowley said and as promised, he took Aziraphale’s hand in his, breathing a kiss on the soft skin.
“Oh… well, good thing I have you,” Aziraphale murmured, cheeks becoming redder.
They didn’t let go of each other even when the waiter brought their desserts. Crowley was watching the restaurant for suspicious individuals as he was enjoying his dark chocolate with candied orange cake, but he hadn’t spotted anyone.
“See anything?” he hissed between his teeth.
“Not yet,” Aziraphale replied, licking his spoon.
Unfortunately, neither of them noticed anything, so they didn’t want to waste their time anymore. After paying, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers. He pretended that the action didn’t affect him, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. They had barely made a couple of steps when the maître d’, who had known them for many years, suddenly appeared in front of them, clasping their free hands in hers.
“Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley, I apologise profoundly for my boldness, but I am just so delighted to see that you finally… well, congratulations. Wishing you the very best.”
Both Crowley and Aziraphale stood unmoving, eyes wide. It was the angel who recovered from his surprise first: “Yes, uh, thank you, Ms. Hall.”
“Ah, isn’t love glorious?” A man from the bar asked, hand over his heart, swaying with his glass dangerously, spilling his cocktail everywhere.
Crowley threw one look over him; it was a man with a grey moustache, a tan trench coat and a hat. He’d obviously had more than enough to drink. The demon squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and indicated that they should get out fast.
“Love is a friendship, or-or something, that can survive even in the most difficult of times, like an apocalypse.”
Aziraphale turned back, watching the man who was leaning against the counter.
“Atlantis, aliens, Tibetans, the Devil himself couldn’t break such a bond,” he said and laughed, slurping his colourful cocktail.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other, suddenly understanding everything.
“You’re coming with us, young man,” Crowley said as he ripped off the fake moustache of a grinning Adam.
“It worked, right? Oh my god, fucking finally,” Adam chuckled as the angel and demon escorted him to the Bentley.
“Language,” Aziraphale murmured noncommittally.
Adam was gently put in the backseat; Crowley thought he was smiling way too smugly at him in the rearview mirror.
“What were you thinking, Adam?! Getting drunk? You’re seventeen!”
“‘Mnot drunk,” Adam slurred.
“Tipsy then,” Aziraphale added softly. “And following us around for the past few weeks? It’s very improper.”
“Improper, annoying and completely out of line!” Crowley exclaimed, speeding the Bentley.
Aziraphale briefly touched his hand. “We don’t want to be in an accident, my dear boy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Where should we go anyway? We can’t send him home like this.”
“To the bookshop. We’ll let him sleep it off in the guest bedroom, then take him home tomorrow.”
“Hey, lovebirds, I’m still here you know,” Adam laughed. “I can hear you.”
“Good,” Crowley added loudly, ignoring the blush on his face. “We’re upset with you if you haven’t noticed.”
“Why? I just, I just gave you a little push. It’s been some years since the apocalypse. You should be grateful to me actually.”
“That was a ruse in the restaurant to catch the culprit, you walnut,” Crowley said.
“What?! Bloody hell… I give up on you two.” Adam crossed his arms and looked away.
When they made it to the bookshop, Aziraphale and Crowley had to carry a half-asleep Adam inside. Once he was deposited on the bed in the guest room, the angel turned towards Crowley. “I’ll take it over from here, you can go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He’ll probably sleep till late, there’s nothing to do about it. Then I’ll talk to him and make sure he gets home safely.”
There was a strange look of determination on his face, so Crowley didn’t want to argue. “Alright, well, see you soon then.”
“Goodbye, Crowley. Thank you for the lift.”
________________________________________
Strangely, Aziraphale hadn’t contacted Crowley in over a week. Even the short phone conversation they had was strange ‒ Aziraphale seemed distracted and he quickly got rid of Crowley. The demon slapped the receiver down.
He swore he would stay away, let the angel come back to him, but Crowley just couldn’t do that. Did he upset Aziraphale in some way? Why was he so aloof? More so than usual anyway. So under the excuse of having found an amazing bottle of wine, Crowley drove over to the bookshop.
Crowley breathed warm air onto his hands ‒ it was freezing, so he thought that maybe a Glühwein would have been a better option, so they could warm it up and drink it. Nevertheless, when he stepped inside, warm and inviting air hit his face and he sighed with relief. There was also a slight smell of apples and cinnamon and the demon breathed it in eagerly, feeling how warmth spread in his chest.
“Hey, angel, did you get some cookies? Smells good in here,” he called out and craned his neck until he saw Aziraphale by one of his bookshelves, completely absorbed in a heavy tome.
“No, just a candle. Thought the place needed a bit of holiday atmosphere.”
“Good idea. I also brought something that might help with that,” Crowley said as he now presented a bottle of Glühwein to the angel, his chest feeling less tight seeing that things seemed to have returned to normal.
Aziraphale peered up from his book, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He looked away nervously. “That’s lovely. Let me just put this back and close up the place. I’ll be with you in the office soon.”
The demon looked at him for a moment, but then he shrugged and did as he was told, getting two heavy mugs and heating up the mulled wine as he poured it into them. Crowley sat on the sofa and took off his scarf and coat, now warm enough.
Aziraphale finally returned with a very high stack of books. “My dear boy, a little help…”
Crowley jumped up and took half of them from the angel, taking the books to the desk and depositing them there.
“Thank you. I wanted to go over these a bit later. See, there’s a rumour about a typographical mistake in some copies and I wanted to see whether any of mine-”
Crowley tuned out a bit at the bookish talk, his eyes searching for something that they could focus on instead. He wasn’t sure how or why ‒ probably after all the weeks they had been terrorised ‒ but he lifted his gaze, only to find a bunch of mistletoe hanging above them.
“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, catching the angel’s attention as well. “I thought Adam was done with his childish game. I’m going to call him.”
“Wait,” Aziraphale said softly, his hand landing on Crowley’s bicep.
“We’ve been too soft on him, angel, he’s doing it again.”
“It wasn’t him,” Aziraphale admitted quietly, putting down the book. “This time it was me.”
“Angel?”
“It’s been above us ever since you stepped inside. I just…” he hesitated, then moved his hand from Crowley’s shoulder to his cold cheek. “I’ve been thinking and Adam might be right. We’ve been stuck in this limbo, pretending as if things haven’t changed. Maybe we should-”
Aziraphale couldn’t finish his sentence as Crowley leaned in and pressed his lips against the angel’s, softly and yet desperately, the needs of millennia crammed inside that small gesture. Crowley let go to watch for Aziraphale’s reaction; he wasn’t disappointed as the angel looked properly dazed, eyes wide and sparkling.
He cupped Crowley face and brought him closer, kissing him deeply, thumbs caressing the demon’s smooth cheeks. Aziraphale rested his forehead against Crowley’s, laughing softly. “I like this.”
Crowley had a lump in his throat. “Me too. Very much so.”
Aziraphale kissed the tip of Crowley’s nose. “Oh, so cold! Come, let’s drink the Glühwein, to warm you up.”
They sat on the sofa, very close to each, as they sipped the delicious mulled wine, enjoying the harmonious blend of spices. At some point, Crowley slipped his fingers between Aziraphale’s, both blushing at the sweet contact, but not talking about it.
The bottle was soon gone, though, so Crowley got up and dragged the angel with him to the middle of the room.
“What are you doing, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, laughing, a bit tipsy.
Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s neck. “Come, dance with me.”
“But there’s no music,” Aziraphale said, even as he put his hands on Crowley’s hips, squeezing them gently.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Aziraphale smiled, swaying with Crowley, enjoying his proximity. He couldn’t resist for long, leaning in for a kiss, sucking on Crowley’s wine-stained lower lip. “You taste so good, you know?” he whispered, Crowley smiling at him.
They danced like that for a long time, chasing tender kisses and sweet touches as the snowflakes covered the city and everything became peaceful.
Summary: It’s been five years since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t and suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are terrorised by mistletoe that magically appears everywhere they go.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Recipient: doe-in-headlights
A/N: Happy holidays, doe-in-headlights! Hope you’ll like this story, I combined two of your prompts. :)
The Mistletoe Mystery
Crowley was not sure how, but Aziraphale had convinced him to accompany him to a high-end clothing shop, because apparently the angel needed new suits for the upcoming holidays. Why he couldn’t just make them magically appear like every other supernatural being, was beyond Crowley.
With the promise of treating Crowley to coffee and cake afterwards, Aziraphale dragged the demon to a mall. There were so many people already and they silently wondered whether everyone was on their day off or if these people didn’t have to work.
“They sure aren’t sparing the Christmas decoration,” Crowley grumbled.
“It is a bit harsh on the eyes, but look, they used real mistletoe too. That’s rather nice, gives a more genuine feeling,” Aziraphale said, hooking his arm through Crowley’s.
When they finally located Aziraphale’s preferred shop ‒ which looked exactly like the kind of overpriced and stuck-up store only people over fifty shopped at ‒ there was a young, way too cheery employee waiting for them by the entrance.
“Welcome to Ethelwulf’s. Gentlemen, you’re very lucky today, you stopped under our special mistletoe,” she sing-sang, flashing them a brilliant smile as she pointed at the bunch strung up above them.
Crowley blinked from behind his sunglasses. “So?”
“Well, you know, the kissing tradition,” she laughed nervously.
“Fine, fine,” Crowley said, turning his head to plant a kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek, but it seemed like the angel had the same idea and they almost ended up kissing each other on the mouth.
“Sorry, Crowley,” Aziraphale laughed, blushing as he quickly pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek.
The demon blushed too and glared at the employee, making the top button of her shirt loose so that next time she touched it, it would fall off. Aziraphale took off, his attention caught by several shirts and coats. He took some with him in the changing room, indicating to Crowley where he was going.
Aziraphale was just buttoning his second shirt when suddenly Crowley barged in with a panicked expression.
“What’s the matter?” Aziraphale asked, looking at Crowley from the mirror.
Crowley pushed his sunglasses up. “I don’t get why you like this shop so much, it’s so damn weird. Everywhere I went there were employees asking if I needed help and there’s like mistletoe everywhere. It’s insane.”
“You’re paranoid, my dear boy,” Aziraphale said and smiled at the way Crowley crossed his arms and glared at him.
“Or am I?” Crowley pointed up and there, indeed, was another mistletoe hanging, its green leaves and white berries just gleaming suspiciously.
“Alright, that is indeed unusual, I’ll admit,” Aziraphale said slowly. “Why would they hang it in a changing room? Usually it’s just one person inside.”
“Your fancy clothing shop is just bonkers. Ethelwulf, what kind of name is even that?” Crowley mumbled, pushing his sunglasses back as he checked the angel’s new shirt. He had to admit the peach colour went very well with his dark complexion.
“It means noble wolf,” Aziraphale said, then cleared his throat. “Crowley, if you wouldn’t mind, the space is kind of crowded…”
“Oh, right, of course. I haven’t forgotten about tea and cakes, by the way,” the demon added with a grin before leaving the changing room.
The strange mistletoe incident was soon forgotten for a while and everything got back to normal. Aziraphale invited Crowley to St. James’s Park and the demon accepted. He even brought a bag of dry bread with him to feed the ducks.
It was a rather grey and gloomy day, but that didn’t stop the secret agents from strolling in the park.
“You know, Adam called the other day. Said Pepper is organising a secret birthday party for Anathema’s birthday,” Aziraphale said, watching the ducks shake their tails as they got out from the water and wobbled to them.
“Oh really? I suppose we’re invited to it?”
“Of course. It’s next Saturday and Adam specified that we should get in the car at three o’clock sharp.”
Crowley frowned. “Alright, strange request.”
“I suppose he wants everyone to get there in time, so we can all hide while Newt and Anathema get home from their outing,” Aziraphale said, throwing bread to the ducks.
“Alright, well, you’re responsible for the present.”
“Why me?” Aziraphale shook his head, giving the last pieces to the ducks and stepping back, under a chestnut tree. “Your side is more into esotericism.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Crowley bumped his shoulder against the angel’s, joining him under the tree as he felt a drop of rain on his hand. “Do you think it will rain?”
They both looked up, but instead of looking at the sky, their gaze landed on a bunch of mistletoe, tied with a red string.
“That’s odd.”
“Is this some kind of joke? Why are we followed by bloody mistletoe?!”
Aziraphale tapped Crowley’s shoulder. “Don’t be paranoid. Look, there’s mistletoe on every tree. Must be one of those groups that wants peace and love in the world.”
“Well, they could spread it somewhere else,” Crowley grumbled and dragged the angel to the car.
On Saturday, Crowley parked in front of Aziraphale’s bookshop ten minutes to three. He went inside, ignoring the closed signed intended for clients, and called out.
“Hey, angel, you ready?”
“Yes, yes, let me just get the present. You got the flowers?”
“The bouquet’s in the car, no worries.”
They had agreed that Aziraphale would get her a book about witchcraft or occultism, while Crowley purchased flowers. As per Adam’s request, they left when it was three o’clock, and the roads were uncharacteristically empty, probably due to some of his influence.
“Huh, he really wants us to get there in time, doesn’t he?”
“Probably so. Do you mind if I put on some music?” Aziraphale asked.
“No, suit yourself. Though I’m not sure if you’ll find anything besides Queen.”
Aziraphale showed a Beethoven tape to Crowley. “Let’s try this one.”
However, when the angel tried to push in the cassette, it wouldn’t slide into the slot. “What on Earth,” he murmured, leaning down to get a proper look.
“What’s happening there, angel?”
“I’m not sure, something is stuck,” Aziraphale said, moving his index finger and trying to take out the object restricting the tape.
He finally produced a small twig with two small leaves.
“Bloody mistletoe!” Crowley hissed, taking the twig from Aziraphale and throwing it out the window. “How did it get there?!”
“Seems like we’re followed by it. Why would anyone put it in the cassette slot, though?”
“To mess with us, obviously! I’ll catch that bastard!” Crowley pinched his lips and gave full throttle.
“Try not to kill us in the meantime,” Aziraphale said and put his hand on Crowley’s forearm, the touch soothing the demon. “We’ll think of something.”
Crowley had to leave the Bentley by Adam’s house, who somehow made it blend in with the surroundings, so that Anathema wouldn’t notice when she got home.
“How are you, Adam? Everything fine at school?” Aziraphale asked as the teenager pushed the duo inside Anathema’s house.
“Yes, yes, just keep quiet. They will get here soon.”
Crowley and Aziraphale stumbled in the dark room, Aziraphale stepping on Brian’s hand and Crowley almost tripping over Pepper’s outstretched legs. Wensleydale made sure to scoot back to the wall as the angel and demon sat down beside Adam.
“They will get home in a couple of minutes and when they turn the lights on, we jump up and yell ‘surprise’, alright?” Adam said and everyone nodded, even though it was dark.
Luckily, everything went according to plan and Anathema laughed as she saw her guests. She hugged everyone and graciously accepted Aziraphale and Crowley’s gifts. Someone put on music and there was party food everywhere. Since it was organised by Pepper, she didn’t think of alcohol, but Aziraphale made one of the juice bottles into red wine, pouring it generously for every adult.
“Cheers!”
Crowley was almost halfway done with the glass when he suddenly choked as he noticed a mistletoe hanging from a kitchen cupboard.
“Are you alright, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, patting his back.
“Mistletoe.”
Aziraphale’s eyes darkened. “Maybe the culprit is someone who is present.”
“That’d be me,” Anathema raised her hand. “I put it all around the house. It’s an old Celtic tradition, it brings good luck and prosperity.”
“So these were hung before we got here?”
“Yes, of course, I did it a few days ago,” Anathema looked at the angel and demon as if they were crazy. She grabbed Newt’s hand and they went to talk to Pepper.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other and concluded that this was just a crazy coincidence and that maybe they were just paranoid. They continued eating and drinking, their bottle never becoming empty. The atmosphere was so good that they ended up quite tipsy a few hours later. When Anathema called everyone to get their slice of cake, Crowley almost slipped. Luckily, Aziraphale was slightly more sober and caught him.
Crowley looked up from Aziraphale’s broad chest and laughed as he noticed that they were under the mistletoe dangling from the lamp.
“Look, Zira, mistle-mistletoe,” he giggled.
“I can see it. Although I don’t think it was there just a minute ago.”
“Christmas miracle,” Crowley hiccupped and buried his nose in the crook of the angel’s neck, breathing in his vanilla smell. His lips gently kissed the sensitive skin under the angel’s jaw and grabbed onto Aziraphale’s biceps for stability.
“Let’s get some cake,” the angel said, blushing.
Later, when they sobered up before driving home, Crowley was slightly appalled by his bold gesture, but since the angel didn’t mention it, he kept his mouth shut as well. By the time they got back to London, he almost made himself believe that it didn’t even happen.
Life went on normally, or as normally as it could. Crowley made sure he was busy for a few days, got in a few misdeeds as Christmas was approaching. Fortunately, there was no mistletoe around him, although he’d noticed that the cursed plant only appeared when he was around Aziraphale.
Someone really wanted them to kiss, which made Crowley sigh. He really wanted that too, but Aziraphale was oblivious to his desires. It had been over five years now since the Apocalypse-That-Wasn’t, but they still haven’t had an honest conversation about their ambiguous relationship. This was far beyond friendship, but Crowley didn’t dare to say anything, afraid that he’d ruin everything, that it would make their relationship crumble.
So just as they had been doing for many years, Crowley picked Aziraphale up in the evening, silently admiring how well his dark blue suit hugged his round form.
“What is it?” Aziraphale asked when he noticed Crowley staring at him.
“Nothing, but please close the door, don’t let all the cold in,” Crowley mumbled, hoping that his blush wasn’t visible in the dim light of the street.
When they made it to the Ritz, Crowley looked around for mistletoe, but the restaurant was luckily very much mistletoe free. After a couple of tense minutes while Crowley scanned the room, he concluded that the space was safe. He could finally enjoy a nice evening without having to worry about anything.
They ate their dinner and consumed a good rosé wine, talking about everything and nothing. The waiter asked them whether they would like dessert and even Crowley ordered a white chocolate parfait with caramelised almonds, though he didn’t have a sweet tooth. Aziraphale sighed and as he reached for his cloth napkin, he accidentally knocked the dessert fork off the table.
“I’ll get that,” Crowley hurriedly said as he pushed his chair back.
“No, no, it’s alright,” Aziraphale said at the same time and he too was ready to look for the missing cutlery.
Just as Crowley dropped onto his knees and lifted the long, white tablecloth to get under the table, he noticed that Aziraphale was doing the same. They looked at each other for a moment before they both started laughing at how ridiculous they were.
“Can you see it?” the angel asked, looking around with furrowed brows.
“No.” Crowley felt the carpet, but he couldn’t find the fork.
“Oh no, this is beyond ridiculous,” Aziraphale murmured and when Crowley looked up from the carpet there was suddenly a bunch of mistletoe magically glued under the tabletop, one of the leaves even touching his nose.
The demon crawled back a bit, yanking on the offensive plant until it came off. “Someone is seriously after us.”
“They must have been following us,” Aziraphale whispered, sitting back on his haunches. “Just think back, on every occasion it was in a ridiculous place, a very specific one. That cannot be coincidental.”
Crowley nodded. “They must be here. One of the customers maybe. How could we catch this bastard, though?”
“What if we pretend that they were successful?” Aziraphale asked, wringing his hands.
“You mean with this?” Crowley waved at the remnants of the poor mistletoe.
“Yes, that we… you know, that we kissed.”
Crowley stared at Aziraphale. “You know, we’ve been down here for a while now, angel.”
“Well, maybe it was an exceptional kiss… or kisses.”
“Then we have to make it look like that,” Crowley grinned, scooting closer to Aziraphale.
“My dear boy, what are you doing?”
“Just making your bowtie look a bit askew and your shirt a bit crumpled. You know, from us making out.” Crowley’s smile widened. “Keep the blush too.”
Suddenly, Aziraphale’s fingers were in Crowley’s hair.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, you also have to look affected, not just me,” the angel replied, messing up Crowley’s perfect hair. “There. You should also keep the blush.”
Crowley just shook his head. “Okay, let’s get back to our seats. And don’t freak out if I take your hand, okay? It’s just for the show.”
“Yes, yes.”
Aziraphale snorted when he saw that the fork was somehow on the table again and showed it to Crowley.
“You’re so clumsy, angel,” Crowley said and as promised, he took Aziraphale’s hand in his, breathing a kiss on the soft skin.
“Oh… well, good thing I have you,” Aziraphale murmured, cheeks becoming redder.
They didn’t let go of each other even when the waiter brought their desserts. Crowley was watching the restaurant for suspicious individuals as he was enjoying his dark chocolate with candied orange cake, but he hadn’t spotted anyone.
“See anything?” he hissed between his teeth.
“Not yet,” Aziraphale replied, licking his spoon.
Unfortunately, neither of them noticed anything, so they didn’t want to waste their time anymore. After paying, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers. He pretended that the action didn’t affect him, but he couldn’t suppress his smile. They had barely made a couple of steps when the maître d’, who had known them for many years, suddenly appeared in front of them, clasping their free hands in hers.
“Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley, I apologise profoundly for my boldness, but I am just so delighted to see that you finally… well, congratulations. Wishing you the very best.”
Both Crowley and Aziraphale stood unmoving, eyes wide. It was the angel who recovered from his surprise first: “Yes, uh, thank you, Ms. Hall.”
“Ah, isn’t love glorious?” A man from the bar asked, hand over his heart, swaying with his glass dangerously, spilling his cocktail everywhere.
Crowley threw one look over him; it was a man with a grey moustache, a tan trench coat and a hat. He’d obviously had more than enough to drink. The demon squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and indicated that they should get out fast.
“Love is a friendship, or-or something, that can survive even in the most difficult of times, like an apocalypse.”
Aziraphale turned back, watching the man who was leaning against the counter.
“Atlantis, aliens, Tibetans, the Devil himself couldn’t break such a bond,” he said and laughed, slurping his colourful cocktail.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other, suddenly understanding everything.
“You’re coming with us, young man,” Crowley said as he ripped off the fake moustache of a grinning Adam.
“It worked, right? Oh my god, fucking finally,” Adam chuckled as the angel and demon escorted him to the Bentley.
“Language,” Aziraphale murmured noncommittally.
Adam was gently put in the backseat; Crowley thought he was smiling way too smugly at him in the rearview mirror.
“What were you thinking, Adam?! Getting drunk? You’re seventeen!”
“‘Mnot drunk,” Adam slurred.
“Tipsy then,” Aziraphale added softly. “And following us around for the past few weeks? It’s very improper.”
“Improper, annoying and completely out of line!” Crowley exclaimed, speeding the Bentley.
Aziraphale briefly touched his hand. “We don’t want to be in an accident, my dear boy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Where should we go anyway? We can’t send him home like this.”
“To the bookshop. We’ll let him sleep it off in the guest bedroom, then take him home tomorrow.”
“Hey, lovebirds, I’m still here you know,” Adam laughed. “I can hear you.”
“Good,” Crowley added loudly, ignoring the blush on his face. “We’re upset with you if you haven’t noticed.”
“Why? I just, I just gave you a little push. It’s been some years since the apocalypse. You should be grateful to me actually.”
“That was a ruse in the restaurant to catch the culprit, you walnut,” Crowley said.
“What?! Bloody hell… I give up on you two.” Adam crossed his arms and looked away.
When they made it to the bookshop, Aziraphale and Crowley had to carry a half-asleep Adam inside. Once he was deposited on the bed in the guest room, the angel turned towards Crowley. “I’ll take it over from here, you can go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He’ll probably sleep till late, there’s nothing to do about it. Then I’ll talk to him and make sure he gets home safely.”
There was a strange look of determination on his face, so Crowley didn’t want to argue. “Alright, well, see you soon then.”
“Goodbye, Crowley. Thank you for the lift.”
Strangely, Aziraphale hadn’t contacted Crowley in over a week. Even the short phone conversation they had was strange ‒ Aziraphale seemed distracted and he quickly got rid of Crowley. The demon slapped the receiver down.
He swore he would stay away, let the angel come back to him, but Crowley just couldn’t do that. Did he upset Aziraphale in some way? Why was he so aloof? More so than usual anyway. So under the excuse of having found an amazing bottle of wine, Crowley drove over to the bookshop.
Crowley breathed warm air onto his hands ‒ it was freezing, so he thought that maybe a Glühwein would have been a better option, so they could warm it up and drink it. Nevertheless, when he stepped inside, warm and inviting air hit his face and he sighed with relief. There was also a slight smell of apples and cinnamon and the demon breathed it in eagerly, feeling how warmth spread in his chest.
“Hey, angel, did you get some cookies? Smells good in here,” he called out and craned his neck until he saw Aziraphale by one of his bookshelves, completely absorbed in a heavy tome.
“No, just a candle. Thought the place needed a bit of holiday atmosphere.”
“Good idea. I also brought something that might help with that,” Crowley said as he now presented a bottle of Glühwein to the angel, his chest feeling less tight seeing that things seemed to have returned to normal.
Aziraphale peered up from his book, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He looked away nervously. “That’s lovely. Let me just put this back and close up the place. I’ll be with you in the office soon.”
The demon looked at him for a moment, but then he shrugged and did as he was told, getting two heavy mugs and heating up the mulled wine as he poured it into them. Crowley sat on the sofa and took off his scarf and coat, now warm enough.
Aziraphale finally returned with a very high stack of books. “My dear boy, a little help…”
Crowley jumped up and took half of them from the angel, taking the books to the desk and depositing them there.
“Thank you. I wanted to go over these a bit later. See, there’s a rumour about a typographical mistake in some copies and I wanted to see whether any of mine-”
Crowley tuned out a bit at the bookish talk, his eyes searching for something that they could focus on instead. He wasn’t sure how or why ‒ probably after all the weeks they had been terrorised ‒ but he lifted his gaze, only to find a bunch of mistletoe hanging above them.
“For fuck’s sake,” he grumbled, catching the angel’s attention as well. “I thought Adam was done with his childish game. I’m going to call him.”
“Wait,” Aziraphale said softly, his hand landing on Crowley’s bicep.
“We’ve been too soft on him, angel, he’s doing it again.”
“It wasn’t him,” Aziraphale admitted quietly, putting down the book. “This time it was me.”
“Angel?”
“It’s been above us ever since you stepped inside. I just…” he hesitated, then moved his hand from Crowley’s shoulder to his cold cheek. “I’ve been thinking and Adam might be right. We’ve been stuck in this limbo, pretending as if things haven’t changed. Maybe we should-”
Aziraphale couldn’t finish his sentence as Crowley leaned in and pressed his lips against the angel’s, softly and yet desperately, the needs of millennia crammed inside that small gesture. Crowley let go to watch for Aziraphale’s reaction; he wasn’t disappointed as the angel looked properly dazed, eyes wide and sparkling.
He cupped Crowley face and brought him closer, kissing him deeply, thumbs caressing the demon’s smooth cheeks. Aziraphale rested his forehead against Crowley’s, laughing softly. “I like this.”
Crowley had a lump in his throat. “Me too. Very much so.”
Aziraphale kissed the tip of Crowley’s nose. “Oh, so cold! Come, let’s drink the Glühwein, to warm you up.”
They sat on the sofa, very close to each, as they sipped the delicious mulled wine, enjoying the harmonious blend of spices. At some point, Crowley slipped his fingers between Aziraphale’s, both blushing at the sweet contact, but not talking about it.
The bottle was soon gone, though, so Crowley got up and dragged the angel with him to the middle of the room.
“What are you doing, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, laughing, a bit tipsy.
Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s neck. “Come, dance with me.”
“But there’s no music,” Aziraphale said, even as he put his hands on Crowley’s hips, squeezing them gently.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Aziraphale smiled, swaying with Crowley, enjoying his proximity. He couldn’t resist for long, leaning in for a kiss, sucking on Crowley’s wine-stained lower lip. “You taste so good, you know?” he whispered, Crowley smiling at him.
They danced like that for a long time, chasing tender kisses and sweet touches as the snowflakes covered the city and everything became peaceful.
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