'I don't want to wrap anything.'

'Don't be like that.'

'I'll be how I like!'

'You don't like being a bratty little bitch, do you, Zo? I mean, you are like, super good at it, but it doesn't seem very fun...'

'Fuck off.'

The angel Zophiel, one half of the newly appointed Earth Liaison team in Heaven, replacements for the now-renegade Aziraphale, wrapped their arms around their knees and started crying noisily.

'Zophiel… I know you're fake crying. Your real crying is more like-' Penemue made a hiccoughing, gasping, spluttering noise. 'And your fake crying is more like-' Penemue made a sound like the mutant hybrid child of a donkey and a piglet being forcibly dragged somewhere it didn't want to go, possibly with squeaky-toys attached to its feet. 'And right no you are definitely fake crying. Or at least hamming it up. Dunno who for. I'm the only one here, Zo. Save your whining for, like, Michael, or something.'

'I'm noooot whiiiiiiiiiining', Zophiel whined. They added a pathetic little sniff onto the end for dramatic effect.

'Dude, it's not that big of a deal.'

'It is that big of a deal, Penemue. It's not fair! It's our first year in this stupid job that I don't even want, and, like, the only big perk was that we get to go down there sometimes, and like, I was, like, you know-' each word was now being punctuated by a gasping little sob, '-like, really, really, really looking forward to iiiiiiit!'

Penemue reached over and patted their friend on the shoulder.

'I know, babe. But it's just one Christmas. Maybe we can convince them to let us spend it on earth next year, yeah?''

Zophiel sniffed sadly. 'But I was excited for this year. I had it all planned. We were gonna go see them…'

'Well, we can go and see them next year.'

'They might already be married by then!'

'I don't think they have any plans to get married…'

'Yeah, well that's why I wanted to go see them! I mean, aside from, you know, like, wanting to because I love them. I wanted to, like, you know, like, you know. Give 'em a nudge.'

'Yeah, Zo, I dunno if that's a good idea... We talked about this. If we see Aziraphale and Crowley A) we have to do it very, very carefully so that Heaven doesn't cotton on, and B) we have to be cool . All right? Playing Cupid isn't playing it cool. That's, like, the opposite of cool. We're cool , Zophiel. Right?'

Zophiel pushed the reindeer-antler headband back up onto their head, as it had started sliding down onto their face. 'Yeah. We are pretty cool.'

'Exactly. So come on. Get it together. Help me wrap their gift.'

Zophiel nodded, and the bells on the antlers jingled Christmassily.

'D'you think they'll like like it?' Zophiel asked, reaching up onto the desk for the selotape.

'Yeah! Of course! Duh. It's an awesome gift. Like, best gift ever. It's perfect. Hold down this bit of paper for me?''

'All right. Michael and Gabriel and that, they won't know we sent it, will they? Or, like, track it or anything? Last fuckin' thing we need is them being all like We Thought We Made Ourselves Clear That No Contact Was To Be Made With The Renegades Blah Blah Fucking Blah...'

'Nah, it's fine. Sami sent me up one of the little masking devices that Hell uses to obscure little things from Heaven. I've jigged it about a bit so sending the parcel down won't register on the track-y thingamajig for miracles.' Penemue ripped off a strip of tape with their teeth. 'Not that Michael pays any attention to anything we do anyway. Move your thumb.'

'Ah, that's lit. Good old Sami. Hey, did she say anything about whether they've got any plans to replace Crowley Down There, yet?'

Penemue shook their head. 'Mm-mm. Not yet.'

'What still !? It's been like… How long? Like… Like, there's been like three new series' of Queer Eye since that Apocalypse clusterfuck. Dragging their feet a bit, aren't they?'

'Sami said they aren't even sure whether they're gonna replace him. No one really knows what's going on, do they? Like, is Armageddon off the table for good now, or…? Fuck knows. They certainly don't have any idea. So, like, why put agents on Earth if not to secure souls for the War, if there might not even be a War? Don't even know why Michael gave us the job, to be honest.''

'Probably just to stop me emailing her about it all the time. It's a good fucking gig, man. Won't have to bribe Tanariel in body-issuing every time we wanna cheeky little trip to Earth. Now we're, like, official . Epic, bro! Sam and Charlie aren't going after the job, then?'

'Hah! As if!'

'What? Why not? They're the Earth obz. team in Hell, makes sense.'

'Duh, dude you know what Sam and Chaz are like. Not exactly go-getters, are they?'

Zophiel scoffed. 'Oh, and we are?'

'Uhhhh yah. Compared to them. Look, you know as well as I do that Samiaza is like, waaaay more angelic than either of us. She doesn't give a fuck about Hell. They probably wouldn't trust her even if she did go after it. And, like, fair e-fuckin-nough. She'd fuck them over first chance she got, Noah Fence. And Chaziel… He's just weird...'

'I like him. He's cute. Quiet.'

'All he ever talks about is the weather. Like… obsessively. That's all he ever "observes" of earth, too. Sami told me. All the reports he sends to Lord Beelzebub, just obsessively detailed accounts of earth weather.'

'That's actually hilarious. I bet old Beezy fuckin' loves that.'

'Wouldn't like to be in those review meetings, that's for sure- Ah, for fuckssake, there isn't enough paper to cover this end. I think I've got some extra sheets in that drawer, would you just-'

Zophiel hopped to their feet and rummaged through Penemue's chaotic desk drawer until finally unearthing a sheet of very, very green wrapping paper. It had frogs on it.

'Here you go!'

'Thanks, bro. Look, I'll hold it here, you, like, tape it to the other bits of paper. Cover up the gap.'

'Looks all right,' Zophiel pronounced as they finished sticking down the last bit of tape. 'We got a card to go with it?'

'Yup. But I dunno if we should sign it. I mean… Is that a bit… I know we've got the tracker-blocker thing, but it feels a bit…'

'Dicey?'

'Yeah.'

'Yeah, I know what you mean, man. But we can't just put nothing, can we?'

Penemue bit the inside of their cheek thoughtfully. 'Yeah, that'd be a bit…'

'Sketchy?'

'Yeah. Like, they might be all Who The Fuck Sent Us This Amazing Gift, and you know how anxious they both are. I don't wanna freak 'em out. It's 'sposed to be a nice thing…'

Zophiel frowned and pursed their lips. 'Well… Well, how about… You remember that time we skivved off to earth and went skating and Crowley ran you over?'

'Yeah?'

'Well, so, I'm guessing that hitting an angel on rollerskates with your car is pretty memorable, so they probably remember that too.'

'Where're you going with this?'

'Well, I mean, like, couldn't we just sign it From Your Biggest Fans On Rollerskates, or something? 'Cos that's like, proper cryptic to any interlopers, but Aziraphale and Crowley are smart dudes, like, they'd figure that out easy enough, wouldn't they?'

'That's actually a good idea, Zo!'

'Don't sound so surprised. Rude.'

'Hey, and we sent them that letter before, right? What did we sign that with?'

'Our human names, I think.'

'Yeah! Yeah! What were they? I was Ash, you were… Peach? Kiwi? Banana…?'

'Apple.'

'That's the bunny. We could put those, too. Then they'll definitely know it's from us. And then they won't freak out! And then they can just be like Oh, Woah, What A Thoughtful And Amazing Christmas Gift From Our Absolutely Favourite Angels Ever, Hooray! Now We Will Have An Extra Super Fun Christmas, Oh And Is That Mistletoe Above Us? Oh, Well, It Is Tradition After All My Dear Boy…'

Peneume proceeded to make kissing noises whilst Zophiel giggled.

'They'd better invite us to their wedding when they get married. I have a speech .'

'Babe, I don't think they're gonna get married. S'abit, you know, like… I dunno. Marriage, really? Bit old school.'

'Dude, they're like, a bajillion years old. They are old school.'

'Yeah, I guess. Well, we'll see. For now, card! Go get your glitter pens, Zo!'

The South Downs, Christmas Day

It was 8am, and the sun was just beginning to nose its way out of bed and up into the cloudy sky. The weather was wet and windy, as was traditional for Christmas Day in England. Inside of their cottage, Aziraphale and Crowley were curled up under warm blankets, and comfortably refusing to get up. It was Christmas, after all, and for anyone without small children, not having a lie in on Christmas Morning was practically crime against the Crown.

Crowley stretched, and pulled the duvet up under his chin, blinking in the orangey-pink sunlight as it streamed in through the window. 'Mmmnnmmm…. Morning,' he murmured sleepily. Oh, yeah, and Merry Christmas.'

Aziraphale smiled without opening his eyes. 'Merry Christmas,' he said back.

'Now,' Crowley said, turning over onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow, 'is one of us going to get up and make a pot of tea…'

Aziraphale shook his head and pressed himself back into the very fluffy pillow. 'Too cold.'

'...or are we going to go back to sleep until the heating gets its arse in gear and decides to warm the place up a bit?'

'The latter sounds infinitely preferable, my dear,' Aziraphale mumbled, drowsily.

'And miss even more of Christmas morning, angel?' Crowley tutted. 'What happened to getting up early for a nice walk along the beach?'

Aziraphale groaned and turned onto his other side so that his back faced the irritating demon. 'Go back to sleep,' he muttered.

'What happened to lie-ins are pointless, you don't need sleep, Crowley, it'll be much nicer to have a brisk stroll on Christmas morning. Hm?'

'I'm asleep…' the angel hissed.

Crowley laughed and prodded Aziraphale between his shoulder blades. 'You're a nightmare, is what you are.'

The demon flopped back down onto his back and was just falling back into a deliciously pleasant doze, when there was a loud knock at the front door.

Aziraphale groaned. 'Blast it, what time is it, Crowley?'

Crowley glanced at his watch. '8:15.'

'Who on earth could be at the door at this ungodly hour?'

'Carolers?' Crowley suggested.

'Bloody keen carolers. It's a fifteen minute drive to the nearest village!'

'Well, I don't know, do I?'

Aziraphale sighed and heaved himself up. 'I suppose I'd better go and see who it is.'

'I'll go, if you want.'

'No, it's okay. I should get up, anyway. Shouldn't waste the day sleeping, really, should I?'

If Crowley hadn't been deeply irritated at the mysterious door-knocker before, he certainly was now. Aziraphale having a lie-in was about as rare as Hell freezing over (which actually wasn't all that rare, as Hell's central heating was, quite frankly, a shambles) and Crowley had been rather looking forward to it.

'Well, look,' the demon said, swinging his own feet onto the wooden floor and wincing at how cold it felt on his bare feet, 'how about we both go see who it is, and then I'll make us a cup of tea, and we can come back to bed to drink it, yeah? And have some cake for breakfast, too? Or mince pies? I'll heat them up first…'

'No, if we're up we may as well stay up. And didn't you want to go for a walk? May as well, now.'

Crowley cursed under his breath as the angel shuffled into his slippers and pulled on his dressing gown and headed for the front door. The demon trailed along behind him with his hands shoved sullenly in his robe pockets.

They opened the front door and were met with a cheery and vaguely familiar face.

'Good morning, fellas! Cor blimey, what a coincidence, eh? Been a while since I last saw you two! Glad to see you're still together, then. Nice pair of lads I thought when I met you. Right, well, I've got a package for you! Sign here, if you don't mind!'

Aziraphale peered over his reading glasses at the clipboard thrust under his nose.

Crowley narrowed his eyes. The logo on the man's shirt read International Express.

'You?' the demon hissed. He stepped protectively in front of Aziraphale, who tutted and elbowed him back out of the way, muttering about getting in his light. 'What are you doing here? Who sent you?'

The International Express Delivery man smiled brightly and shrugged. 'Don't know. I just get assigned the job, no questions asked. When you get paid as well as I do, you don't ask questions!' He took the clipboard back off of Aziraphale. 'Right then! Nice to see you again, chaps. Merry Christmas!'

And the International Express Delivery Man drove away.

Aziraphale and Crowley shut the door against the cold wind, and went to sit at the kitchen table. The package was set down squarely in the middle of it, and the angel and the demon stared at it, warily.

It was wrapped in holographic-silver wrapping paper printed with a design of rainbow christmas trees, apart from one panel on which there appeared to be neon green frogs.

'What on earth…'

'Does he… deliver regular packages, or only occult ones?' Crowley asked anxiously.

'I'm not sure… Certainly no regular postman delivers on Christmas day. Not even Yodel make their deliverymen work today, and you know how awful they are…'

Crowley eyed the hideous box dubiously. 'Do you think it's safe to open it?'

'I don't sense anything particularly malevolent about it,' Aziraphale replied, although he didn't sound confident. 'Look, there's an envelope attached to the side. Perhaps we could open that first?'

Crowley jiggled his leg beneath the table. 'I don't like this…'

'It might not be… them. They did say they were going to leave us alone, my dear.'

'Yeah, but it's been a few years… Maybe they've changed their minds.'

'By sending us a Christmas gift?'

Crowley glanced at his angel. 'I suppose that is a bit, ngk, unlikely… And Hell would never send something so garish.'

Aziraphale took the envelope and carefully slid out the card.

It said "Happy Birthday Baby Jesus!" on it, alongside a picture of a cactus wearing sunglasses and a Father Christmas hat.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow.

Clearing his throat, the angel opened the card and read aloud the writing inside:

'Dear Aziraphale and Crowley,

First of all - Merry Christmas! We hope you are having a totally super epic Christmas day, although if that delivery dude has done his job right, then you should be getting this at like 10am or something, so Christmas hasn't really started, I guess. We hope you've had a nice Christmas breakfast, at least!

We shouldn't be sending this, really, but, you know, fuck it. You guys are awesome, and you totally, like, sort of helped save the world. And we love the world. And we love you guys. You're the best. Seriously.

Anyway. Merry Christmas, hope you like the gift!

Hopefully we'll be able to come and see you some time. We've been promoted, how cool is that? It's not quite the same as your job used to be, cos, like, you were officially declared… I don't know, obsolete, or redundant, or something like that, so box-ticky stuff said we couldn't just like, have your exact job, but it's sort of the same, ish. Point is, we get to come to… *something scribbled out* Er, that is to say, we are humans and your job is being a bookseller, and that's what we've been promoted to, and we'll hopefully get to go on a business trip or something to the South Downs or Soho, wherever you are, really, at some point, and maybe we can hang out?

Lots and lots and lots of love and Christmas Wishes,

Your Totally Super Biggest Fans, Who Are Mediocre Rollerskaters, and Definitely 100% Human,

Ash and Apple

XoXoXoXoXo

And then, in different handwriting at the bottom: Also please if you get married please please please send us an invite to your wedding please please please. Merry Christmas. I love you!

P.P.S Super hope you like the gift, we spent ages choosing it 3'

Aziraphale finished reading and absently stood the strange little card up on the table.

Crowley pulled a face and said ' Ngk.'

'Well,' Aziraphale replied awkwardly, 'I suppose that at least clears up who this is from… Do you want to open it, or shall I?'

Crowley, who would rather the package have been from Satan himself than from those two insane angels who seemed to treat his and Aziraphale's life like their favourite soap opera, shook his head. God only knew what could be inside that box. For all Crowley knew it could be wedding-cake toppers of him and the angel. Or a book filled with instagram-filtered images of them together surrounded with little hearts and cliche, sappy quotes from Hallmark Christmas films. Probably was that, actually. And although his relationship with Aziraphale was far less guarded than it used to be, Crowley was still not one for being erriblydemonstrative. Or having others being demonstrative on his behalf…

'No. You open it,' the demon said. 'They're crazy, it's probably, ngk., filled with exploding glitter, or something. I hate glitter.'

Aziraphale carefully peeled the gaudy wrapping paper off of the parcel.

And then they stayed silent for a few moments. Staring.

Aziraphale frowned, and finally spoke. 'What is it?'

'Uh…' Crowley's voice cracked as his face broke, against his wishes into a wide grin. 'Well,' he said, starting to laugh, 'I, er, I think it's a, uh, a Scalextric set…'