Work Text:
Apocalypse averted, isn’t this great?
Aziraphale was exhausted. After almost being burnt out of existence, the angel was not in the mood for Christmas.
Also, there were some aspects of modern Christmas that he wasn’t very fond of.
Jesus wasn’t even born in December! Humans would just pick and choose the things more convenient to them, facts not being important.
He was okay with people who didn’t believe in the religious part of the holiday, as long as they kept the essence of giving back and to spread love and peace, and he loathed those who used religion for personal gain, especially during a time people felt so vulnerable.
He was also not very happy about all of the people trying to buy his precious books.
Against everything, the angel was not as fond of Christmas as he should have, especially giving the year he’s had. He still participated in Christmas traditions, but his enthusiasm decreased as the years passed.
Aziraphale had just shooed another costumer when the bell rang again.
“Sorry,” he shouted from behind a big pile of books. “We’re not open.”
“That’s okay,” said a voice Aziraphale could recognize anywhere. “I don’t really fancy reading.”
Crowley sauntered around the shelves.
“Oh,” Aziraphale shouldn’t be surprised the demon was there. It had become a common thing. “Hello, Crowley. What brings you here?”
“Ngk,” the demon dragged his finger over the book spines as he navigated the bookcases. “Was bored, I guess...”
“Any plans for Christmas?” asked the angel.
“Same old, same old,” the demon reached the angel and stood facing him. “Bringing down BBC’s signal to those that like watching the Queen’s speech. Then bringing down the signal of all the other channels of those that don’t like to watch the Queen’s speech, so that have no choice.”
Aziraphale stopped organizing his books to look at Crowley with bewilderment.
“But then bringing the BBC signal back to everyone to watch Doctor Who and then complain on Reddit David Tennant is not in the Christmas special,” he added. “That sort of thing.”
“And is that not entertaining enough?”
“Well, today is still Christmas Eve, my day is open.”
“Hm,” hummed Aziraphale.
“What about you? Aren’t you gonna decorate the shop?”
Crowley looked around, the usual tree decorated in white and golden ornaments was missing, as was the fairy lights around the shelves, the numerous wreaths hanging on the walls and the little sculpture of little angels holding an olive branch that Aziraphale kept on his desk.
That was unusual.
Aziraphale sighted.
“To be honest,” the angel averted his eyes, “I’m thinking of skipping it this year.”
“Even Christmas dinner? You love Christmas dinner,” Crowley was surprised.
Aziraphale shook his head.
“You can’t skip Christmas,” Crowley tried to make some sense to it. “You’re and angel, you have to love Christmas.”
“Why do you care so much? You’re a demon, you don’t like Christmas.”
Crowley stopped for a second to think about an answer for that, but Aziraphale was faster.
“The truth is that I'm a little disparaged, giving everything that’s happened.”
“So, you don’t want anything to do with it?”
“It’s not that I don’t want anything to do with it, I just don’t have the energy to do anything regarding it,” Aziraphale’s tone was one close to defeat.
No, that won’t do. Crowley had to do something about that.
Crowley would not admit it, but he might like Christmas more than a demon should.
Humans have all of these cute little traditions, like giving each other shiny things, gathering to eat, decorating their homes.
The demon could argue that chopping down trees during climate crisis was bad, what would give him a pass to like it; but then humans decided to farm those trees and ended up planting more than they need.
Greed made them buy lots of things this time of year, consumerism usually overshined the charity and giving apsect of the holiday, as a tree with huge piles of presents underneath it was a symbol of status; but then humans decide to gift those presents and make other humans happy because of it.
Okay, fine! Crowley loves Christmas time.
That’s why he couldn’t let the holiday pass uncelebrated.
Crowley hang around the bookshop for a awhile before he left to the nearest grocery store. He had heard over the years about Aziraphale’s usual Christmas traditions.
Granted, those changed often as new traditions emerged and old ones got forgotten, and Crowley wasn’t exactly paying attention to what the angel was babbling about.
Heavens! Why didn’t he pay attention?
He roamed the store hoping the sight of the ingredients would help his memory.
Crowley wasn’t used to eat so frequently. Drinking, sure! All the time. But eating was reserved for a few very specific situations that usually involved the angel ordering for him.
He had read multiple articles on the internet and decided on a simple menu for the Christma dinner, just a turkey with gravy and a chirstmas pudding for desert. Easy peasy.
At the checkout, Crowley’s shopping cart was filled to the brim with the ingredients to make minced pie, pigs in blankets, roasted potatoes and brussel sprouts, cranberry sauce and a triffle for desert as well.
“Ngk,” the demon sighted at his shopping choices. “Maybe I got too carried away.”
He thought about returnig some of the things, but the cashier called him and he didn’t want to make the visibly tired worker waiting. As he finished paying, the store managed announced an early closure of the store. A small miracle the demon would never admit having done.
Now he just needed to find a way to get the angel out of the shop so he could set everything up.
The small record shop was open, Thank Hell! Crowley barged in with more force than he should, but giving his desperation, he just smiled sheepishly as the poor girl jumped with the noise.
“Welcome to the The Small Back Room,” greeted the girl. “How may I help you?”
“Hi,” Crowley said trying to give her a friendly smile. Giving her expression, it was probably more of na awkward grimace. He tried to carry on, “Peggy, isn’t it?”
“Maggie, actually,” she answered. “You’re mister Crowley, isn’t it? Mister Fell’s... friend?”
Crowley frowned at the small pause, but chose to ignore the implication.
“Yes,” he answered. “You have a good relationship with him, don’t you?”
“Mr. Fell is my landlord, and a very generous one,” she said, “so I’d say yes.
“Good,” the demon smilled. Of course the angel had good relationships with everyone on Whickber Street. “I need your help with something concerning him.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “Is he okay?”
“He needs some holiday cheer,” Crowley splayed himself over the counter.
“Oh yes,” she sat back down to get to the demon’s eye level. “I’ve noticed he looked a bit down lately. I think this is the first time I see the bookshop without the christmas decoartions this time of year. I’ve noticed he doesn’t seem as enthusiastic as in the previous years.”
“I’m going to do something about that, and I need you to keep him out of the store while I set everything up,” he explained. “Do you think you could do that?”
“Absolutely!” Maggie grinned big. “When do you need it?”
“Tomorrow afternoon,” Crowley stood “I’ll text you when.”
Aziraphale was having a lovely tea with Maggie when she received a text.
“Oh,” she exclaimed. “That’s my sister. I’m so sorry, Mr. Fell, but I have to go, they’re waiting for me.”
“Oh,” said the angel, placing his tea cup back on the small table at a very cozy corner of the record shop. “That’s okay, I wouldn’t want to cause you to be late.”
Aziraphale got up and straightened his vest.
“Oh, you won’t,” she said as she took the tea set tray.
“Merry Christmas, Maggie,” the angel wished.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Fell,” she answered with a big smile on her face.
Aziraphale was walking down the street heading to his bookshop, when he noticed it.
A beautiful garland adorning his front door.
It made him stop in his tracks.
Looking closely, he could peek more decorations inside his shop, as well as a tree, although different from the rest of his shop, was not decorated yet.
He pushed the door open to take everything in. The rich smell of festive food hit him as he stepped inside. He looked around in wonder.
There were more garlands on his bookcases, as well as delicate golden fairy lights hanging from them.
The walls had colorful wreaths and various (electronic) candles were lit around most of the surfaces he could see.
It was beautiful.
He walked further into the shop and stopped in front of tree, where Crowley stood by a pile of boxes.
“Merry Christmas, angel,” the demon said. “I couldn’t let you skip Christmas.”
“Oh, Crowley,” the angel had tears in his eyes. “You made all of this by yourself?”
“I had some help,” the demon pointed to the window where Maggie was waving at them.
They waved back and she left.
“It all looks so beautiful,” the angel was still looking around in awe. His eyes stopped at the undecorated tree.
“I thought you’d like for us to decorate it together,” the demon handed the angel a golden ornament.
Aziraphale smiled and places the ornament at the tree. They worked in sync hanging ornaments, tinsel and even more fairy lights.
By the time they were done decorating the tree, Aziraphale’s face was hurting from smiling for so long.
They took a step back to admire their work.
“It’s beautiful, Crowley,” the angel turned to his demon. “Thank you for this.”
“Ngk,” the demon waved his hand, “It was nothing.”
“No, no,” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand in his. “It was everything.”
They looked at each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity when a soft bell chimed.
“Oh, that’s the food,” Crowley exclaimed excited. “Come along, angel!”
The demon led his angel by the hand up the stairs to the small kitchen. Every surface had at least on different dish on top of it. Crowley reached to the oven and took out the turkey, placing it on the stove.
“You made all of this?” the angel was surprised.
“Ngk, I miracled it,” the demon snapped his finger and the food served itself into the two plates on the kitchen table. “Dinner is served!”
“Oh,” the angel left a soft sound escape.
“If this last year taught me something, is that we’re good together. That we should be on our own team, because we work,” Crowley took the angel’s hand in his once again. “And I want to make you happy. I want us to be happy. Together.”
Aziraphale felt a year trace down his face.
“That’s what I want too.”
Crowley smiled and looked up. They were conveniently under a mistletoe. Aziraphale looked up as well and let out a giggle.
“Did you place that strategically?”
“...maybe?”
Aziraphale let out another giggle, but it got lost at Crowley’s lips kissing his.
Their first kiss was sweet and chaste, but heartwarming. The ones that came next had an urgency of six millennia waiting for it.
When they finally managed to untangle themselves from one another, the finally sat down to it. As they dined in silence, Aziraphale felt a warmth spread through him.
“Oh, Crowley,” the angel moaned as he took a bite. “This is the nicest thing someone has done to me.”
“You deserve it, angel,” Crowley turned to Aziraphale. “You deserve everything.”
“You know,” the angel had an uncertain tone on his voice. “You don’t have to keep living in your car.”
The demon looked at the angel with a surprised but expectant expression.
“You could live here,” the angel continued. “I have a spare room.”
“I’d love that, angel,” Crowley raised his glass of wine in a toast.
“To our own side,” the angle proclaimed.
“To our own side,” his demon clinked their glasses.
