Happy Holidays, Ouida!

[goe_mod]

Title: Improvements
Recipient: Ouida
Rating: T
Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley
Summary: After settling into their new cottage, Aziraphale and Crowley have their own interests. Sharing those interests with each other leads to a revelation.


Aziraphale was never quite certain what Crowley was doing in the garden. They had settled very comfortably into their new cottage, but with rather divergent interests. Aziraphale spent a great deal of his time in the kitchen baking and cooking, at least when he wasn’t reading. It was awfully fun trying to improve the recipes.

And then there was Crowley. Crowley had taken to the garden like a duck to a rather luxurious pond. Granted, he spent at least half of his time in the garden gleefully threatening the plants into producing better. But he also seemed to have decided that things like digging trenches and constructing a compost heap were “fun”.

Aziraphale did not understand this. But then, he had never entirely understood the mystery that was Crowley. That was part of what made their long term partnership (of sorts) so very enjoyable. There was nothing quite like debating with someone who had an entirely different worldview.

They certainly agreed on a few things, though. Earth was a thoroughly delightful place, and enjoying their retirement at a cottage in the South Downs provided a nice change from the city. They also agreed that it was a good idea to purchase backup cassette tapes to replace the ones that turned into Queen after a fortnight in the Bentley.

And, of course, they agreed that life together was best enjoyed with each other’s company.

At the moment, though, Crowley’s somewhat distant company was mostly making Aziraphale rather puzzled. He watched out the kitchen window as Crowley dug a trench past the front of the cottage. Aziraphale was reasonably certain that at this point, the trench actually surrounded the entire cottage. He just wasn’t sure why.

Sighing, he took out the tea infusers. He left his own tea entirely alone, but added milk and a healthy serving of sugar to Crowley’s. Crowley, who had always been obsessed with drinks like date palm cocktails, liked his tea sweet.

Aziraphale had just finished putting homemade scones and jam on plates and then on the kitchen table when Crowley sauntered in from outside, covered in dirt and looking terribly pleased with himself.

“Hallo,” Crowley said, with a little wave. “Nice day, eh?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been outside yet today. I was reading, and then baking.”

“Well, take my word for it. Definitely a nice day.” Crowley hovered there in the kitchen doorway for a moment. “Er. You wanna go for a walk or something? Come see the garden?”

Aziraphale pointed to the teacups on the table. “I want to have tea.”

“Gosh, is it that time already?”

“Well, it’s morning, and we usually have tea when you’re done in the garden.” Aziraphale amended that. “Well, when you’re done in the garden for now. It looks like you, um… made progress.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Crowley grinned conspiratorially. “I did, didn’t I?”

Aziraphale waited for him to explain the conspiracy. Unfortunately, Crowley did not explain. He just sat down and drank his tea with a smugness befitting a James Bond villain.

---

Crowley wasn’t quite sure why Aziraphale baked and cooked so much. It seemed like he was always baking or cooking something these days, often variations on the same recipe.

It wasn’t that Crowley disliked food. He liked food quite a lot, although not quite as much as he liked drink. Food was one of the pleasures of the world, especially a big meal followed by an even bigger nap.

Snacking throughout the day made less sense to him. But Aziraphale enjoyed it, and seemed as happy to share his culinary creations as a human grandmother would be, and so Crowley snacked.

He was done snacking now, and was relaxing in his chair while Aziraphale finished his own tea. They’d had a proper debate over what sort of curtains to put in the kitchen window, and hadn’t actually made a decision. It was fun.

Everything with Aziraphale was fun. It always had been.

Although lately, it had also been slightly awkward, at least from Crowley’s point of view. They were living together. Spending loads of their time together, often leaning against each other on the sofa holding hands. They didn’t sleep in the same bed, but that was just because Aziraphale didn’t see the point of sleeping.

It was all terrific. The problem was that they hadn’t actually discussed their relationship at all, or what they might be to each other now that they weren’t technically enemies.

“So,” Crowley said the instant Aziraphale finished his tea and shifted as if about to get up and go find a book. “You wanna come see the garden?”

“Right now?”

“Have you got somewhere else to be?”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “After six thousand years of eating together, you ought to know that I like to sit for a bit after I eat. You know. To digest my meal.”

“Really? Really?” Grinning, Crowley thumped the table, then pointed at Aziraphale. “You were about to get up and go get a book. Right?”

“I only just finished my tea, Crowley.”

“Exactly. And then you immediately adjusted in your seat.” Crowley gave him an even sharper grin, aching with affection. “After six thousand years of eating together, I know when you’re about to jump up and dive back to your books.”

Aziraphale glared at him. Crowley kept grinning.

“Oh, very well,” Aziraphale relented, expression softening. “I suppose it is only right that I come see your hobby, since you’ve indulged mine by having scones.”

“It’s not just a hobby. It’s a mission.” And he was having more fun with it than he had with any personal project since the M25, even if this was on a much, much smaller scale.

“I see,” Aziraphale said slowly. “I suppose my baking and cooking is a sort of mission too.”

Crowley salivated at that, and not just because the snacks really were delicious. But if Aziraphale saw this as a mission, that meant there was an actual purpose. And Crowley could derive possibly days of enjoyment out of trying to guess what that mission was.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and putting a hand out to Aziraphale. “Let’s go feed the ducks.”

Aziraphale took his hand, and they went outside together. They had to come back inside, just briefly, so that Aziraphale could take off his tartan apron. Then they went out again.

---

Aziraphale was quite mystified as to the state of the garden. There was indeed a trench encircling the entire cottage. Thankfully, Crowley had also either built or conjured a handful of small bridges that crossed the trench, so they were still able to reach the duck pond.

The ducks also seemed very happy about this. They swam across the pond in hopes of snacks.

It was less of a pond than a lake, really. Crowley’s first project had been to expand the pond and make more room. His very demonic reason for doing this was that if they had the best pond/lake in Sussex, then the ducks would all come to the cottage, and the local humans would be upset at the lack of ducks. And then humans would do what they always did, and take out their upset on each other.

Privately, Aziraphale suspected that Crowley simply liked feeding the ducks together, and wanted to be sure they had a good supply of hungry mouths—well, bills—to feed. They had been feeding ducks together since Eden, after all.

They fed the ducks and bickered more about the curtains. When they reached a stalemate on the curtain argument, they moved on to bickering about what film to watch after lunch.

When they finished feeding the ducks and bickering, Crowley proudly showed Aziraphale around the garden. It did look very nice, aside from the mysterious trench. Crowley must have been thoroughly lecturing all the plants. They looked very good.

“Thought I might do sunflowers now that it’s getting into late spring,” Crowley said speculatively as they strolled past the gate at the front of the property. “Great big wall of sunflowers all around the place, eh? Block out the view of the neighbors.”

“The neighbors think you have underworld mob connections, dear boy.”

“Right? Right? They’ll all want to know if I can do favors for them or something. I’ve seen The Godfather.” Crowley perked up. “There, that’s it. Perfect film choice for this afternoon.”

Aziraphale made a face. “I was thinking something less bloody.”

“Cheers?”

“I was thinking something more romantic.”

“Cheers has got romance,” Crowley said, indignantly. Then he bent, plucked a handful of daisies, and shoved them at Aziraphale. “There. How’s that, romantic enough?”

Aziraphale stopped in his tracks and stared at the daisies. Then he stared at Crowley, whose eyes had gone wide behind the dark glasses.

Crowley cleared his throat. “Er. Anyway. Bond films are romantic. Could do one of them.”

“That hardly fits the ‘less bloody’ qualifier, my dear.”

They walked together in embarrassed silence for a while. Aziraphale contemplated his daisies.

But goodness. This did put an interesting sort of spin on things. If Crowley was giving him flowers now, perhaps other things he did were romantic gestures, too. Perhaps even the trench.

It would be very like Crowley to do something truly strange as a romantic gesture. He did love his schemes and mischief, after all. If he, like Aziraphale, thought that perhaps they really ought to actually discuss their relationship, this would be the way he would go about it. By getting up to some sort of trouble.

But Aziraphale still couldn’t think of what the purpose of the trench might be. Unless, perhaps, it was a more symbolic purpose. A ring, for instance?

“Could do a musical,” Crowley said thoughtfully as he led Aziraphale back towards the cottage. “There’s some storm clouds. Singin’ in the Rain, maybe?”

Aziraphale looked up at the clouds. They were certainly very ominous, when it came to the possibility of storms. It seemed that if Crowley was attempting to flirt and/or propose using a trench, he would have to wait until another day. “Certainly less bloody than your other suggestions, and romantic at that! An excellent idea.”

---

Crowley loved watching films with Aziraphale. And just sitting on the sofa with Aziraphale, especially holding hands and sort of cuddling. That was definitely one of the pleasures of the world, even if it felt slightly more awkward than usual today after the whole flower thing.

He looked at the daisies. Aziraphale had put them in a vase and set them on the coffee table, very prominently.

That was a good sign. He hadn’t gotten weirded out by the flirting, even if it was unintentional and not particularly smooth. Maybe later, when Aziraphale wandered off to the library, Crowley would watch a Bond film or two and try to get some ideas. A Roger Moore film, probably. Roger Moore was charming.

Crowley was charming when he needed to tempt someone into something. But this was different. This wasn’t a job, and it wasn’t like tempting Aziraphale to help him avert the Apocalypse. He didn’t want to tempt Aziraphale into negotiating… whatever they had going on here now.

Or maybe he should. He could take Aziraphale out to dinner, to a really special dinner. Or cook for him. How hard could it be?

Or… wait, was that what Aziraphale was doing? Trying to tempt him via homemade snacks? Was that the mission, to seduce him?

“Gosh,” Crowley said out loud, startled by the thought.

Aziraphale jumped, then gave him a mildly offended look. “If you have extended commentary on the film, you ought to pause it.”

“Since when is ‘gosh’ extended commentary?” Crowley snapped, but he gestured anyway. The film paused. “I was just—”

It started to rain, a sudden drumming downpour on the roof. Crowley instinctively pressed closer to Aziraphale, who was an incredible source of warmth at all times.

“Oh dear, that’s an awful lot of rain, isn’t it?” Aziraphale picked up a blanket—it was tartan, of course—and spread it across them both. Then he tugged his hand free of Crowley’s, and wrapped an arm around him instead. “There, that’s better. The temperature will likely plummet soon, and we’ll stay much, much warmer like this.”

“Gosh,” Crowley said again. “Right. Right. You know me, I’m all for warmth.”

Aziraphale beamed at him. “I know. Now, did you have something you wanted to say about the film?”

“Hm? Oh, no.” He definitely did not want to talk about anything right now. Not when they were properly snuggling, finally. He’d rather just snuggle forever, or at least for the rest of the day. “Let’s watch more, shall we?”

He gestured again, and the film started back up. Actual rain added a good atmosphere, and he smiled as he snuggled closer to Aziraphale. Yeah. Yeah, this was exactly what he wanted out of life.

Also, the rain would help with his own mission. Later, he could take Aziraphale outside and show him everything. If it wasn’t still just pouring, anyway.

---

Aziraphale wasn’t in the habit of sleeping. Oh, he had done it occasionally. Usually, it was Crowley’s fault, something done after a few too many bottles of wine and both of them forgetting that they could sober up.

In this instance, it was at least slightly Crowley’s fault. But it was also Aziraphale’s fault too. After all, he was the one who had gotten the nice comfy blanket and coaxed Crowley to snuggle closer.

As a result, they had both fallen asleep and missed the end of the film. By the time Aziraphale awoke, the television had apparently gotten tired of being neglected, and had turned itself off.

At first, Aziraphale was rather tempted to just go back to sleep. He was awfully comfy, after all. And he was very much enjoying snuggling with Crowley.

But he’d never had his afternoon tea. And although he did occasionally venture outside his usual routine, especially if he had an interesting book, Aziraphale was rather a creature of habit. Habit insisted that he make some tea for them both.

But oh, Crowley looked so comfortable. And rather adorable, although he would hiss and spit an awful lot if Aziraphale told him so. Which would be quite entertaining in itself.

Crowley jolted awake and looked up groggily. “Er. Hi. Why’re you staring at me?”

“Because you’re rather adorable when you’re sleeping,” Aziraphale said, unable to resist.

Crowley hissed at him. “And you’re a bastard. Look, if you wanna see me being ‘adorable’ more often, you could come with me when I invite you to bed. I wouldn’t object.”

Aziraphale rather felt like that might be nice. There were an awful lot of things one could do in a bed, after all. And now that he and Crowley seemed to be moving in the direction of discussing such things…

“Whoops! Look.” Crowley hopped up, and Aziraphale shivered at the rush of cool air. It was indeed spring, but not very warm yet. “It stopped raining, and s’ not dark yet. Come on, Aziraphale. Perfect time to demonstrate my project, eh?”

“I don’t even know what your project is,” Aziraphale said, a trifle testily. “Come back to cuddle a bit longer.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but cuddling can wait.”

“What about my afternoon tea?”

“I’ll make it for you when we get back inside.” Crowley stuck out his hand. “Deal?”

Sighing, Aziraphale shook it, and then let himself be pulled upright. Then he remembered the possible proposal, and became rather more nervous.

Crowley looked so excited that Aziraphale couldn’t be too nervous, though. After donning jackets, they went outside together.

“All right, my dear,” Aziraphale said, shivering at the chilly, damp air. “What have you done now?”

Crowley, grinning with all the wicked enthusiasm he had shown after two hours of moving M25 marker pegs around a field, gestured broadly to his trench. “Behold, the moat! Terrific, eh?”

Aziraphale stared at the trench. It was certainly full of water now. “You… surrounded our cottage with a moat.”

“Yep.”

“Like a castle.”

“Yep.”

Aziraphale blinked, then looked at his delighted face. “Why?”

“What? What d’ya mean, why?” Crowley sounded offended that Aziraphale didn’t understand his vision, but still terribly delighted about his moat. “Because it’s cool, that’s why? Haven’t you always wanted your very own moat?”

“Um. Well, I can’t say that I have, primarily because I’m not a James Bond villain protecting my lair from intrepid spies.”

Crowley looked even more delighted at that comment. “Ooh, gosh. It does have a villain lair vibe, doesn’t it?”

“Somewhat, yes.” Aziraphale looked at the moat again. “It also seems to have ducks.”

The ducks floated down the moat, looking very pleased with their new waterway. Crowley stared at them, his jaw dropping.

After a moment, he recovered and shrugged. “Right. Right. That works, doesn’t it? The ducks will definitely snub the neighbors now, won’t they?”

“I suppose they will.” Aziraphale chuckled, his heart aching with affection. Crowley was just so strange, but so funny, and… “I love you an awful lot, you know.”

It wasn’t the sort of thing they normally said. Crowley froze, staring at him. Aziraphale stared back.

“Er. Er.” Crowley gulped. Then, rather suddenly, he stormed over and took Aziraphale’s hands. “Me too. Love you, I mean.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale beamed at him, so pleased that it made him a little dizzy. “That’s good. Perhaps you ought to kiss me, then.”

Crowley quite promptly kissed him. Aziraphale, who had expected a bit more bickering before they actually kissed, was caught off guard and off balance.

But when he slipped in the mud, Crowley caught him and held him up. They sank deeper into the kiss, serenaded by the quacking of happy ducks.

And then it started to rain again.

They bolted for the indoors, Crowley blessing under his breath. Aziraphale didn’t swear, as he was still in the habit of avoiding it, but he did think a few choice words in the direction of the clouds.

“Okay. Okay,” Crowley said once they were inside and shivering. He was still holding Aziraphale’s hand, and looked quite triumphant despite being thoroughly drenched. “So. You like my moat?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I suppose I do.”

“Terrific. I’ll figure out a way to keep it filled later.” A heavier shiver rippled through Crowley. “This storm should take care of it for a bit, eh? That’s a lot of rain, isn’t it?”

“It is. Your moat will likely be overflowing soon.” Aziraphale chuckled again. “Do you know, I had a rather silly thought about that trench. I wondered if you were planning to use it as a ‘ring’ to propose to me or something.”

Crowley paused in the middle of pulling off his water-spotted dark glasses. He gave Aziraphale an incredulous look. “We’re basically married already. And anyway, I was making a moat because I was bored. There’s only so many neighbors around here for me to torment by driving too fast, and you vetoed my mint plan.”

“You’re not allowed to spread mint into everyone’s gardens, even if it would be a very good annoyance.” Aziraphale patted his arm. “I suppose this is a sign that we ought to go for an outing to the city again soon so you can cause mischief there.”

“Terrific plan, angel. Definitely agree.” Pausing again, Crowley looked at him. “Er. Were you flirting with me via feeding me baked goods? Is that why you bake and cook so much now?”

“Um.” Aziraphale gave him a baffled look. “I do rather like feeding you. But mostly, I just enjoy baking and cooking. And eating.”

“You said you had a mission.”

“Oh. I suppose I did. My mission, was, well…” Chuckling, Aziraphale gestured vaguely. “To make the best possible food. I’ve been working on improving the recipes.”

“Right, of course. You always have liked good food.” Crowley, still shivering, looped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and put his lips rather temptingly in reach. “So. So. After we change into something dry, wanna grab tea and snacks, and then cuddle more?”

In reply, Aziraphale simply kissed him again, more passionately this time. He wanted all of that, yes, and also to talk more. But for the immediate moment, he simply wanted to enjoy the experience of being in love, and “basically married already”.

---

“I sort of get it now,” Crowley said as he carefully spooned tea into infusers.

Aziraphale looked up from cutting cake. He’d toweled his hair dry after they changed their clothes, and it stuck up in every possible direction. “Hmm?”

“I sort of get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Get why you like working in the kitchen so much.” After pouring hot water, Crowley gazed out the kitchen window. Ducks swam in the moat, undeterred by the ongoing rain. “It’s peaceful.”

Aziraphale snorted. “You always get bored with peaceful.”

“And it’s a terrific view, especially now.” Crowley pointed, grinning. “You can see the moat.”

“Ah, yes. You’ve enhanced my view greatly,” Aziraphale said in an extremely dry tone. “At least there’s more ducks.”

“Yup. Duck delivery system, right?” While the tea steeped, Crowley grabbed plates and delivered them to Aziraphale. “Right, okay. So. What film should we watch with our tea?”

“Oh, don’t start that again.” Despite the protest, Aziraphale was smiling. “I think we ought to discuss the other ‘improvements’ you no doubt want to make to the garden and cottage. I know you, you old serpent.”

“Well, I did think a secret volcano base would be cool. But I haven’t got a volcano.” Crowley eyed the steaming tea speculatively. “Could always miracle up a volcano, mind.”

“No, you may not,” Aziraphale said firmly but fondly. He took Crowley’s hand and squeezed. “Um. And perhaps we ought to discuss if there’s any other improvements… Well, it’s hard to improve on what’s been so wonderful for six millennia. But there may still be some things we wish to add to our, um. To our ‘basically marriage’.”

Crowley grinned. He could think of a lot of things they could add. “Nnnh, in a bit. I wanna enjoy our most recent additions first.”

“Cuddling, certainly,” Aziraphale said, waving a hand. The teacups teleported themselves to the living room, and so did the cake. “I think that will be awfully fun to explore. I, um. I always enjoy doing everything with you, Crowley.”

Crowley had been trying his hardest to still be cool and confident, but he couldn’t help softening at that, and brushed a kiss to Aziraphale’s cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

They went together to the living room, and curled up together on the sofa under tartan blankets. And since they were already there, in such close proximity, it was only natural to indulge in a little more kissing.

Soon, they got distracted from the kissing by a continuation of their bickering about curtains, and what film to watch with dinner. They had different interests, and different opinions on a lot of things. But they could both agree that one of the benefits to snuggling was that they could keep doing that while bickering, and bickering only improved the whole experience.