Happy Holidays, 05Mei_ran!

[goe_mod]

TERRIBLE TWOS

Rating: T

After two years of letting Muriel run the bookshop while he raised his surprise child with Crowley, Aziraphale decides to return to work. There is only one problem. Toddlers aren't big on change and now their daughter, Rowan, is putting Crowley, who is home with her, through it. And it’s not just temper tantrums and stubbornness. She is starting to manifest her powers. How is Crowley going to cope?

Aziraphale stood before the mirrored dresser, tying his bowtie when Crowley emerged from the en suite bathroom with hair wet from the shower. He towelled it dry with such vigour it was a wonder he wasn’t spraying water droplets. Aziraphale looked at his reflection with a smile.

“Are you ready for this?” the angel said, with a final tug to tighten his bowtie into its place.

Crowley sat down on the edge of the bed, the towel dangling from one hand.

“For what? Watching the kid for the day?” Crowley’s lip curled up in a sneer, but Aziraphale was aware he was all bark and no bite. “You forget I was the nanny. I didn’t see you in the nursery changing Warlock’s nappies and handling his temper tantrums. Is she awake yet?”

“She” referred to their daughter, Rowan, who had arrived two years ago after a surprise pregnancy that left them both in quite a state of shock following its discovery. Once it wore off, they discussed options, eventually deciding to raise their baby daughter together in Crowley’s flat. It was bigger on the inside and had been redecorated in an eclectic blend of both Aziraphale and Crowley's styles. Though now with Rowan about, several piles of books had been returned to the bookshop, the more dangerous and exotic plants had been moved off-site, and a clash of bright primary-coloured toys took their place.

“Not yet, but she’s stirring.” Aziraphale bit his tongue instead of adding that Crowley never changed a nappy without the use of a miracle and pawned Warlock off on him for lessons on being good whenever the demon could.

“See? I told you getting her on a sleeping schedule was the best thing. Imagine having to spend twenty-four-seven minding a child.” 

“And thank you for that.” Aziraphale kissed him on the cheek. “I do appreciate our alone time. Even more, now that we have less of it.”

He stepped back and examined himself in the mirror, tugging one last time on the hem of his waistcoat. Crowley slithered up behind him to wrap long arms around the angel’s waist and place sensual kisses on his neck.

“So, what do you say we make good use of that alone time tonight when Rowan goes to bed?” The demon pressed up against him from neck to thigh, and Aziraphale turned his head to give him a return kiss when Crowley laid his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

Aziraphale hummed in reply. “It sounds like a plan.”

Crowley cocked his head to one side, silent a moment before he sighed and released Aziraphale. “I’d better finish getting ready before she does wake up.” They exchanged one last kiss. “You have a good first day back from paternity leave, angel. We’ll be here waiting for you.”

Aziraphale nodded. “See you tonight, my dear.” 

He snapped his fingers and popped into the upper level of the bookshop. Crowley would need the Bentley if he took Rowan out to run errands or to the park. And at least this way, his commute wasn’t any longer than before Rowan’s birth.

As he flipped the sign from open to closed, a strong desire to return to the flat flooded him. He wanted to dash into Rowan’s bedroom to tenderly kiss her on the forehead, then give her the sweetest of hugs the moment she awoke. Now, he understood what human parents meant when they mentioned the separation anxiety that accompanied the first few days back at work. Today was not going to be easy.

 

~*~*~

 

Crowley was used to having backup, and this morning already wasn’t going well. Rowan was against everything, from her usual play clothes to her favourite princess dress. She even wiggled out of her nightgown after he suggested she just stay in her pyjamas all day. Crowley didn't have high hopes for the rest of the day. 

They were in her room with half her wardrobe laid out on her bed while Crowley tried to find something she would tolerate him putting on her with a minimum of biting. Instead, everything he pulled out had her screaming. She was usually better behaved than this. 

Near the end of his rope, he smiled a little too cheerfully before he held up an outfit Aziraphale had bought for her, consisting of a mint green shirt with a little lamb on it and a pair of brown leggings. 

“How about this?” 

“Okay.”

He took the outfit off its hanger and prepared to get her dressed when she yanked the leggings out of his hands, tossing them aside. “This.” She pointed to the shirt. “Not that.” Her finger jabbed the air in the direction the leggings flew.

Well, at least she had a shirt and nappy on. It was better than just the nappy. 

The nappy was only for appearances. It was Aziraphale’s understanding that now would be the time they started teaching her how to use the toilet which led to discussion over whether they should be switching to training pants. Crowley thought all of it was mad. “Maybe we should give up this charade. Put Rowan in knickers and tell the nosy mums on the playground who ask questions that she’s completely housebroken,” Crowley had said. “She doesn’t pee. We don’t need to be going through all the same stages as human kids.”

Aziraphale sighed. “My dear, it is called ‘potty training’ when you are referring to children rather than puppies.”

But for now, Crowley had other concerns. He picked the leggings up off the floor. “Let’s not lose those. You’ll need trousers if we go outside later.”

Rowan’s glared at him, a deep frown on her pudgy little face. “No!”

 Crowley hung the leggings back up in the wardrobe. “That’s enough, Rowan. You can just wear your shirt for now, but the yelling needs to stop. Let’s get your hair out of your face.”

He grabbed the hairbrush off her dresser and picked her up, setting her down on the bed. She allowed him to brush through the wild mass of strawberry blonde curls that was long enough to get in her face. Aziraphale always put it up in two bunches that stuck out from her head like a pair of curly antennae. Crowley already had parted it down the middle and gathered one side up into the customary bunch when she screamed and shook her head hard. Afraid he was going to rip hair from her scalp, he quickly let go. 

“Nooooooo! Papa does hair.”

“But he’s not here today. Remember we talked about him going back to work?”

Rowan nodded, the stubborn look still not gone from her green eyes.

“So, can I do your hair since he’s not here?”

“No!” She beat her fists on her thighs. “Papa! Not you!”

Crowley took a walk into the hallway before he lost it. Aziraphale, who digested every parenting manual he could get his hands on, said they could expect some bad behaviour from her until she became used to him being gone during the day, but Crowley didn’t expect a battle at every turn.

Take a few breaths. She’s a kid. You know how kids are…

He returned to lean on the doorway, feeling defeated by someone who hadn’t been on Earth long enough to learn how to have a rational argument. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

She ran off down the hall, screaming in delight for some reason known only to her, although Crowley suspected it was because she was winning this small war she declared on him. Eventually, they made it to the kitchen after a detour to the living room to pick up a Peppa Pig plush out of the toy box there. 

“Okay, how about breakfast?” Crowley said again as Rowan sat on the floor having a conversation in her own language with the toy. “Your piggy can come, too.”

“Peppa!”

“Sorry, Peppa can come, too.” God, he hated that pig, but he tolerated the toys and the show with a smile on his face for Rowan’s sake. Like everything else, it was a phase. It wouldn’t be long before her short toddler attention span honed on to the next big thing for small kids.

He convinced her to sit down at the table with Peppa Pig perched on the chair beside her. It was a small victory, but he knew the battle over breakfast waited right there in the wings. Crowley sucked in a large, cleansing breath and let it out again in an attempt to relax. 

Count to ten if it goes bad, he reminded himself.

“Let’s get your breakfast ready,” he said, prepared for her to disagree with him about it. 

“I want…” she bounced as she said the last word, “juice.” 

At least there wasn’t a “no” in there, but juice wasn’t usually served at breakfast, thanks to Aziraphale reading up on healthy options for toddlers.

Crowley shrugged. “Well, at least it’s not coffee.”

“Coff-ee!” she shouted, laughing. “Silly Daddy!”

“Yeah, that’s me. Silly. Glad someone finally realises that.” He booped her nose. “A little bit of juice and that’s all. Your papa will have my head if I feed you too much sugar.”

Crowley was all for encouraging a little gluttony. After all, Rowan was an angel-demon hybrid, and as a supernatural being, didn’t need nourishment. She’d go through weeks-long periods where she had no interest in eating but suffered no ill effects. Sugar wasn’t going to harm her. 

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was all about healthy eating habits because, as he told Crowley, that was part of being a good parent. Crowley had given up reminding him books about raising a human child weren’t going to help them out much. 

“Cheerios today?” he said, looking in the cupboard at the boring selection of cereal Aziraphale kept around, like porridge. “It’s either that or eggs.”

“Want Puffs.”

“We’re fresh out of Sugar Puffs.” Crowley poured her a kid-sized bowl of cereal and added a splash of milk. “There you go, kiddo. Eat up.”

Rowan shoved it away from her the moment he set it on the table, her green eyes accusing. Crowley collapsed into the chair across from her, his head falling to the table. It was a quarter past nine in the morning, and he had never in his life wanted a drink so badly. How did he do this day after day as a nanny? 

“Please eat it, Rowan. Your tummy needs a good breakfast if we’re going to go play in the park later. Tummies don’t like to go play if they’re empty.” He wasn’t above a little bribery. Rowan loved going to the park.

She took two bites of her cereal, then asked for a cup of milk, despite wanting juice earlier. She drank it without issue, but that was all Crowley could get into her before she bounced off with her pig to play in the living room. Meanwhile, Crowley gave the whisky in the liquor cabinet in the corner of the dining room a look of longing.

 

~*~*~

 

“There’s no need to worry,” said Muriel, who had run the bookshop while Aziraphale took time off to be with his new family. “Crowley can handle a baby. And your flat is not too far away if he needs anything.”

“Rowan is two. She is a bit bigger and rather more active than a baby. And you know how Crowley can get.” Aziraphale cast a look at the iron railing surrounding the upper level, imagining he saw Crowley running towards it with a panicked question on his lips. “He’s a great parent, but well, he’s Crowley. I’m afraid I’ll come home to find our daughter gorging on a bag of candy because her misbehaviour irritated him too much, and that was his answer to keeping her quiet.”It was a better way to deal with it than other methods Crowley had used over the years, like turning annoying youngsters into lizards.

Muriel shelved the book they were holding. “I can take the tube over to check on them if you want.”

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head. “No, thank you, though. I’ll check on him later.”

Dear Lord, that would show a complete lack of trust if he sent Muriel up to see what was going on. He trusted Crowley. Aziraphale simply wanted smooth sailing for both Crowley and Rowan today.

He settled down at his desk to dive back into the paperwork for half an hour before he decided to pick up the phone and hopefully soothe his feelings of anxiousness. 

“What?” said Crowley upon answering.

“Hello, Crowley. I…umm…I was wondering how Rowan is doing. I do miss her terribly.” He paused and blushed at his forgetfulness. “And you, too, my dear.”

There was a moment of silence before he heard Crowley snort.“We’re fine, angel. Doing great. Do your bookshop thing and try to remember that I’m her parent, too. I’ll call you if something serious happens. Stop worrying. Bye!”

And Crowley hung up. Surprised, Aziraphale stared at the receiver for a moment before he set it back down in the cradle. 

Oh, dear, he'd insulted Crowley by calling. He didn’t mean to make his partner feel like an incompetent parent. It was just that all this was pretty new to both of them. He’d make it up to Crowley later with an apology and a good snuggle session. 

 

~*~*~

 

Rowan wore the armour Aziraphale made for her out of silver lamé with a bit of sewing and a lot of miracles. It closely resembled his own armour from back in King Arthur’s day, except without that magnificent cloak. Crowley would have preferred to forget that era, himself. He'd hated the damp conditions, stupid fashions and the horse Hell had required him to ride as part of his Black Knight persona. He quite often fell off of that big, black beast.

Instead, he was finding the good old medieval days hard to forget. As part of Rowan’s current game, he was curled up on the floor of the living room in the form of a miniature dragon with Rowan’s finger pointed at his horned head. All to keep said toddler happy. It was good Aziraphale couldn’t see him. The angel would worry that Rowan would begin telling people that her daddy could turn into a dragon. Crowley figured people would chalk it up to a small child’s imagination. Humans couldn’t change their form, now could they? 

“Ha! Dwagon! I got you!”

“Yeah, you got me. Please be gentle. I’m a…nice…dragon.” 

Crowley certainly didn’t write this script. He wouldn’t be a nice dragon. Some minor shenanigans would have been in order back in the bad old days. Burn the fence keeping the livestock in the pasture. Escaped cows, annoyed farmers, bad moods spreading like the Black Plague. Boom. Souls slightly tarnished. He wondered for a brief moment if that would have earned him a commendation from Hell.

“Good dwagon?” asked Rowan. She said something else that came out as gibberish Crowley didn’t understand. “No eating people?”

“No, I don’t eat people. Too many bones.”

Rowan giggled. “Too many bones.”

“Yeah. It’s not fun having to pick out all those ribs out of your teeth. I don’t eat people. I eat…” What could he say that he ate? “Uhh…I eat cake.”

“Cake!” 

Oh, God…now he had done it. She was going to want cake now. Crowley blew a sigh out through his dragon nostrils, wondering if it was safe to change back to human form. He hated leaving that shape for fear he’d forget how to return to it.

Rowan seemed to have lost interest. She babbled about cake, using a mix of English and gibberish only she understood. He thought he caught her asking if they could bake one, then suddenly, with a small pop, she was gone. In her place was a small light blue snake with emerald eyes and dark grey belly scales.

Oh, shit…

Crowley never returned to his favourite form so fast in his life.

“Daddy?” Rowan sounded about ready to burst into tears.

“Give me a moment. Stay calm, kiddo, okay?” He smiled reassuringly at her even though all he wanted to do right now was panic himself.“We’ll fix it.”

“Okay.” The little snake trembled, but otherwise, didn’t move. 

Crowley snapped his fingers and Rowan stood before him again in human form. Her little lip quivered as tears formed in her big green eyes. Crowley scooped her up before the crying started. He rocked her in his arms as she sniffled and hoped she didn’t start wailing like a fog horn right there next to his ear

“It’s all right. You’re going to be fine,” he said. His heart, thumping wildly in his chest, began to beat slower.“Please don’t cry.”

“Was snake, Daddy.”

“I know. That was scary, wasn’t it?” He set her down again since she appeared calm and kissed her forehead. “Look, I can be a snake, too”

It had been six thousand years, but he remembered the old form like it was yesterday. He felt everything shift as he confined himself to a snake’s tube shape, the strangeness of no longer possessing limbs descending upon him. He lowered his vertical, hooded front half to the floor before he scared his young daughter. 

Crowley flicked his tongue out, smelling her and everything in the air on an elevated level. Her fear was dissipating which relieved Crowley. That sudden, unexpected transformation must have been so frightening, but everything seemed all right now that she saw she had a kindred spirit, even if she was too little to understand.

“See? I’m a snake, too.”

She reached out to pat him on the head, more curious than anything. Her little head tilted one way then the other as she examined him from his head to his tail which stretched out around past the sofa and into the dining room doorway. 

“Oh!” Rowan laughed. “You big!”

“Yes, but I’m never a snake unless I need to be. Have you ever seen me like this?”

“No.” 

“Exactly. So, please try not to become a snake again, okay?” 

Her transformation might have been due to her excitement, but it wouldn’t hurt to let her know that it wasn’t a good idea to become a snake any old time, in case she could control it as well. 

“Okay.”

She dashed off, running a few sprints back and forth along Crowley’s length until he told her he needed to become human-shaped again. Puffing, she came to a stop next to the sofa and climbed up on it to bounce on her knees on the cushion. 

“Don’t jump on the furniture, Rowan,” Crowley said, his brain reverting to parental autopilot. “You want to watch your show?”

A quiet activity to keep her from getting too excited was in order. 

Crowley popped back into human form and dug out the remote. What streaming service was that pig show on? Frustrated, he fumbled through several before choosing to use a discreet miracle to get that stupid show up and running before Rowan either lost interest or became impatient with him. She was calm, and he’d like to keep it that way. 

There. Better. He’d have a good half-hour of quiet time, maybe more. He went to the kitchen where he could still keep an ear out for any problems, then called Aziraphale.

 

~*~*~

 

“Aziraphale’s a little busy,” said Muriel when they answered Crowley’s call. “A few members of the Whickber Street Traders and Vendors Association came over with a welcome-back gift for him. They’re talking about a little party later this week.”

“I need to speak to him. It’s urgent.” 

Crowley sounded flustered. Muriel wondered what was up. They searched for Aziraphale, looking around the bookshop as far as the phone cord would allow. He wasn’t in sight.

The bell above the front door jingled and Muriel heard the little group step outside. 

“I will be right back, Muriel!” Aziraphale called back over his shoulder. 

“Uh, Crowley? He’s stepped out for a minute.”

“Stepped out? What for? If he doesn’t feel like going through the book-selling charade, he closes all the shades and pretends he’s not in while he has some hot chocolate or wine. I have a real problem on my hands here.”

“I don’t know?” Muriel’s uncertain comment came out more like a question. They paused, then wondered how unintentionally suspicious that sounded to Crowley. “He left with the association members, and they all walked off towards the record shop. He said he’d be right back. I’ll have him give you a call. Bye now!”

They hung up the phone and sank into the chair by the desk. Hopefully, Crowley wouldn’t be too grumpy with them later for cutting the conversation short.

 

~*~*~

 

Crowley paced after his unhelpful phone conversation with Muriel. What were they still doing hanging around, anyway? Aziraphale was back, didn’t they have other things to be doing? 

Okay, our kid can turn into a snake. Should have expected that. Not like I didn’t get branded with that animal when I Fell. We all got animals. Only I didn’t know it could be handed down through the genes… What am I saying? We don’t have genes. I didn’t even know I could reproduce.

He peeked through the doorway into the living room. Rowan sat on the sofa, her attention glued to the telly. If she had been any more hypnotised by that show, she’d be drooling.

Good. 

If she stayed calm, maybe she wouldn’t transform again. That would give him time to figure out how to keep her from changing form until he and Aziraphale could find a solution to that little problem.

 

~*~*~

 

“Crowley called and sounded panicked? Muriel, you should have fetched me. The association could have waited.”

Muriel gave him a helpless smile. “I thought he had it handled. He didn’t sound too panicked.”

Aziraphale reminded himself not to be impatient with them. They hadn’t spent much time on Earth or socialising in any meaningful way. He reached out to give them a reassuring pat on the hand. “It’s fine. I need you to mind the shop now while I see what Crowley needs.”

Muriel nodded.

Hurrying off to the telephone in the back of the bookshop, he checked for any wayward customers before he called Crowley’s cell phone. It rang four times before going to voicemail.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Anthony Crowley. You know what to do. Do it with style.”

“It’s me, returning your call. Is everything all right? Please, give me a call back when you have a moment.”

Aziraphale had stopped worrying, but now the feeling rose again. Should he go upstairs to see if there was a problem or respect that Crowley was handling it until told otherwise?

 

~*~*~

 

Peppa Pig lost her appeal after two and a half episodes, much to Crowley’s dismay. That unfortunate turn of events led to him sitting at the toddler-sized table in Rowan’s room in front of a small plastic teacup and saucer with his long legs hitched up almost to his chest. A doll sat to his left, staring out across the room with a frozen smile on her face. To his right, Peppa Pig slouched back in her chair, having partially fallen over when Rowan plopped her down.

“Tea, Daddy.” Rowan poured him some from her toy teapot.

Crowley looked down at the very real tea in his cup. “Ngk.”

Oh, boy. What’s next? Wings?

Why hadn’t Aziraphale called yet? Crowley reached for his pocket the best he could while folded nearly in half to find it empty. Shit. He'd left it on the kitchen counter. A small miracle moved it to his pocket.

“Drink, Daddy.”

“Oh, sorry. It looks good, kiddo.” Crowley took a sip. It was very good tea, exactly the way tea should taste. What did a two-year-old know about tea? “Very nice. This is the best tea I’ve had in a while.”

“Fank you.” She grinned, wrinkling up her nose, looking very much like Aziraphale when he did the same thing.

Rowan sipped at hers but didn’t react in the way a small child should to something like a cup of hot tea. Crowley wondered what was in her cup.

“Do you have tea, too?”

“No, silly.” She giggled and tipped her cup for him to see. “Hot choccate!”

“Well, you enjoy your hot chocolate. Papa called me and I need to call him back.”

Crowley unwedged himself from the small seat and slipped into the hallway to make the call. It was still close enough to Rowan he could keep an eye on her. 

“A.Z. Fell and Company, how may I help you?”

“Angel, sorry I missed your call. I need your help. Rowan turned into a snake.”

“A snake? Oh, dear. I had hoped it would take longer for her to manifest her powers.”

“Yeah, well…it’s happening now. Get back here.”

“Good lord, Mrs Sandwich just walked in. Are you accepting money from her clients again?”

“What? No!” Crowley became annoyed Aziraphale would even accuse him of that. Then the guilt got to him. He sighed. “Okay…not for a few weeks. I gave it back to her. With a little extra for the inconvenience.” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Conversation over, Crowley stuffed the phone back in his pocket. “All right, Rowan. I’m all yours.”

He turned back to the doorway to find the table empty except for the doll. Peppa Pig lay in the middle of the floor, abandoned. Rowan was nowhere to be seen.

He combed a hand through his hair with a growl. How could he be so stupid to take his eyes off of her for a moment? Aziraphale better get here soon.

Okay…this was like hide and seek, right? Rowan loved hide and seek. He checked under her bed, bending down to lift the bed skirt. No Rowan. Well, it was just the first place. She had plenty of other favourite hiding places all over the flat.

 “I’m looking for you, Rowan!” he said in a singsong voice like he did when they played hide and seek. “I’m going to find you!”

He scanned the room, his eyes lighting first on her wardrobe. Yes, a perfect place for a toddler to hide. 

“I found…” he said right as he threw the doors open to find it empty except for Rowan’s clothing. “Oh.”

And what if she had turned into a snake again? Crowley’s heart leapt into his throat at that thought. Finding a tiny snake in a rather large flat could take all day. Swallowing down the panic, he first pawed through the pile of stuffies in the corner before moving on to the next logical hiding spot, then the next, and another…

 

~*~*~

 

“Crowley!” called Aziraphale the moment he opened the door to find the living room torn apart. The toy box was empty, every toy scattered across the floor like they attempted an escape. The sofa cushions were scattered, the sofa itself, bereft of cushions, sitting out from its usual spot in front of the window. His reading chair was turned sideways as if someone looked behind it, the lamp on the table beside it toppled over. “Goodness! What happened here?”

Crowley stood up from behind the shoved-out sofa, his usually immaculate black shirt wrinkled and perfect hair looked a bit worse for the wear. “Angel! You’re home. I’ve searched everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.”

Aziraphale’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Searched? Searched for what? I don’t understand.”

“Rowan. She’s gone. I think she might be in snake form.” Crowley climbed over the sofa, frantic. “I’ve turned this flat upside-down!”

“So I see.”

Aziraphale wanted to panic along with him, but that wouldn’t do either of them any favours. He bought himself a bit of time by tugging down his waistcoat while he attempted to keep his anxiety off his face. Crowley wasn’t thinking clearly, so he needed to. 

“Calm down, my dear,” said Aziraphale, pulling him into a quick embrace that was meant to calm both of them. “Parenting a supernatural child was never going to be easy. She is here somewhere. Take a few deep breaths, then we can go look for her.”

“I was even in snake form so I could slither into tight places.” Crowley gestured to the narrow space between the sofa and the floor. “She popped into that form when she became excited. She probably got all excited again, changed form without meaning to and now thinks I’m going to be upset with her about it. She’s really starting to manifest powers. The tea at her little tea party was real.”

Well, there was a frightening thought. She was too young to be getting up to such antics. How were they going to handle that? He began to sweat just thinking about it before he clamped his emotions back down. 

“Well, we will have to deal with that later,” Aziraphale said, a little too brusquely. “But for right now, I know of one way of finding her. Stand back, my dear. You do not want to be burned by divine light.”

Crowley retreated to the corner of the living room, far out of Aziraphale’s way. Once out of the range of any divine light, he popped a pair of sunglasses into existence and slid them on his face. 

“I’m ready.”

Aziraphale nodded, then closed his eyes. He held his hands out to the side at about shoulder height with the palms up like he was a figure in a religious painting. After a bit of concentration, two giant white wings stretched out from his shoulders to touch opposite walls. His brow furrowed in the concentration needed for the next part of his transformation. Aziraphale thought about Heaven in those idyllic early days before Lucifer became bored with being a mere messenger of God. When choirs of angels sang with joy as the first stars burst to life, and God designed the most marvellous creations. He began to glow with divine light, a holy creature who opened hundreds of eyes that floated around him and could see all.

It was disorienting for a moment, the sudden visual information causing his mind to spin. His knees buckled, and his arms shot out for a moment before he regained control. 

“You okay, angel?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale turned every eye on him, his mind filled with multiple angles of his partner and in every single one of them, Crowley looked uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 

“I’m doing just splendidly. A little vertigo is all… Give me…a moment…” Nothing could hide from the piercing gaze of those unnaturally blue eyes. Aziraphale saw right through the walls of the flat into Soho itself. “Oh, dear. Allow me to readjust here. I’m seeing the furniture in the building over the road. That won’t do.”

“As if that’s not weird,” muttered Crowley.

“Hush, please, Crowley.” 

All right, there. He was only seeing in their flat and while that still was disorienting, at least it wasn’t magnified by looking into others’ flats. Hundreds of images passed through his mind from the pots in the kitchen cabinets to the space between the books and the back of the bookshelf. The eyes shifted and a hundred more bombarded him. 

“Ah. There she is!”

“Where?”

“She is in snake form and up in the box springs of our bed. There’s a rip in the felt on the bottom. She found it,” said Aziraphale, a soft smile on his face. “Oh, I think our baby’s asleep.”

“I’ll go get her. You…uhh…get back to normal.”

Aziraphale watched him run off down the hall, transform into a moderately-sized snake and slither under the bed. He took in one more view of Crowley curling around her in a snake-like hug. This divine form was no longer needed.

Aziraphale closed the hundreds of eyes and thought of his life here on Earth. Crowley smiled at him over a glass of champagne as they shared lunch at the Ritz. There were walks hand-in-hand in the park, ducks, cuddle sessions on the couch, more passionate times and Rowan, still a newborn, cradled in his arms. The holy light faded away, leaving behind an Earthly angel. Then he folded up his wings and was just Aziraphale again.

Crowley came out again alone. “I put a miracle on her to keep her asleep and put her to bed. It’s been a rough morning. A nap isn’t a bad thing right now. Besides, we have a lot to discuss.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Yes. I rather think we do.”

They retired to the sofa after putting the cushions back, Aziraphale sitting up straight next to one arm. Crowley leaned into Aziraphale, his legs stretched out almost to the other arm of the sofa. Aziraphale put an arm around him, and they sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s touch. Eventually, Crowley pulled his legs up close to his body and turned enough to be able to make eye contact with Aziraphale.

“I think we need to do a double miracle to keep her in the flat,” said Crowley. “I worry about her managing to slither her way outside and then what?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I agree, but I don’t like it. Well…shall we?”

They grasped each other’s hands. Each took a moment to formulate the miracle in his head, then Aziraphale nodded at Crowley.

“Ready?” said the demon. He had his hand ready to raise with a snap. “One…two…three…”

A ripple of power moved through the living room, shielding the walls and ceiling of the flat in a protective magic that would keep in any potential toddler escapees. That was one problem solved.

“I feel like we’re caging her.” Aziraphale fidgeted with guilt, his hands playing with the buttons on his well-worn waistcoat.

“No,” said Crowley firmly. “We’re protecting her. This is no different than a human locking the door so their own two-year-old can’t run out into the street. Now, she can’t miracle her way into danger.”

“Now, we had better figure out how to train a small child in the fine art of miracles or we won’t be able to take her out into public for years,” He gave Crowley a tired smile. “Although the shield buys us time.”

“Well, we’ve been through worse,” said Crowley. “Miracle blockers are a thing, as we well know. We can figure out how to make them last several hours so we can at least take her outside. Or cook up a more permanent one to put on her for now. It can be lifted when she’s old enough to understand how to perform miracles and when to use them.”

He laid his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder and snuggled in. Aziraphale used the arm behind Crowley to give him a squeeze. Crowley had foregone his usual waistcoat today which made Aziraphale happy. He hugged warm, soft fabric rather than cold, impersonal leather.

“It’s something to start researching,” said Aziraphale.

“You heading back?” Crowley asked, turning his eyes to Aziraphale. His look pleaded with the angel to stay.

“No. Muriel is competent enough now. They won’t allow a book out the door, except for those mass-produced bestsellers I order simply to have something to sell.” Aziraphale thought for a moment. “Perhaps I should only go back part-time. Spend mornings in the bookshop and afternoons helping you train Rowan.”

“Might not be a bad idea.” Crowley’s voice betrayed him despite how casual he tried to keep his reply. Aziraphale could tell he’d be happy for the help. “She’ll need pointers from both of us.”

“Very true.” Aziraphale needed to talk it over with Muriel first, but he had made up his mind that he would be working part-time. Muriel wouldn’t mind handling the afternoon shift. They liked the bookshop.

Crowley pushed himself into a fully seated position. “Rowan’ll probably be out a while. You wanna?”

He grinned like a madman, an eyebrow raised in question. Aziraphale laughed at his eagerness.

“Insatiable demon.” Aziraphale reached forward, pulling Crowley into a passionate kiss that it sparked his own amorous feelings. “You go on ahead. I’ll clean up here.”

“Good idea. I think I left the bed a mess, anyway. Nobody wants to stop foreplay to untangle the sheets.”

Aziraphale took his time cleaning up the living room, using several miracles to get the job done to avoid disaster. One did not want the toys piling themselves up on the chair while the chair cushion tried to cram itself in the toy box. He pulled his hand down in one final snap. There. That was better. On his way out, he paused to set his reading lamp right.

Before anything else, he checked on Rowan, who was slumbering away in human form, her strawberry-blonde head barely visible above the covers. Aziraphale shut her door again and walked across the hall to the main bedroom.

Crowley had straightened up the bed. The duvet pulled up and the pillows fluffed. Or they would have been if Crowley’s head wasn’t smashed into them, snoring softly. Aziraphale set a hand on his heart at the sight of his partner fast asleep after all of today’s excitement. He leaned down to stroke Crowley’s red locks.

“Oh, my sweet demon. Parenting is hard, isn’t it?” 

Carefully, he nudged Crowley’s prone form onto one side of the bed and lay down with him, propped up by the throw pillows that were stacked out of the way by the bedside. Crowley could nap while Aziraphale read a few chapters of his latest book, then they would see what the rest of the day held for them.

He lost himself in the narrative, unaware a couple of hours went by until a small distraction pulled him out of his reverie.

“Hi Papa!” said Rowan. She waved at him cheerfully, and then she sneezed.

Two silvery-grey wings popped out from her back. Aziraphale’s knuckles went white as he clutched his book. He looked at her in absolute horror while thoughts of flying lessons raced through his head.

“Oh, dear.”