Gifted

Disclaimer: Good Omens belongs to people who are not me.

Rating: PG-13

Authoress note: Aziraphale brings Crowley something nice.

He still went back to the garden sometimes.

Aziraphale had been the angel of the Eastern Gateway back when the garden was new and even now, he remembered the day he had put small, soft feet down and felt grass for the first time. He had marvelled at the plants, so full of colour and smell, he'd dipped his feet into the cool streams and let the wind ruffle his feathers.

It had been those early days in the Garden that had told him just how much he was going to love the world.

The Garden was a marvel.

It had also been the place where he met Crowley. The fallen angel had not been what he expected. Aziraphale had expected venom, bile and brimstone, hatred so raw that it would singe feathers and poison the ground. He'd been terrified of meeting his first adversary. What he'd got was an awkward sense of humour, an overly enthusiastic friendship and a vulnerability that had caused all of Aziraphale's fear to vanish.

He'd gotten a friend.

Before Crowley had done his job and tempted Eve, they'd spent some time in the Garden, together but not really together. As in, they both knew the other was about, but they weren't friends, not yet anyway. Though Aziraphale had often monitored Crowley and had seen the fallen angel's fascination with plants blossom. It had been rather sweet to watch something that was supposed to be the embodiment of hate, anger and betrayal waft about the garden, gushing at the colours and smells of the flora.

It was that memory that's caused Aziraphale, now countless years later, to visit the Garden once more.

The Garden wasn't really on Earth anymore, though for practical reasons it still was. They housed it in a pocket dimension, still technically on Earth, but inaccessible to mortals. Like Narnia, but a lot smaller and with less talking Fauna. Angels still came to the Garden, those who wanted to visit Earth without really visiting Earth. It put Aziraphale in mind of the people who visit faraway lands but never leave the hotel.

The presence of other angels made Aziraphale slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't great around his own people anymore. They were too judgemental for his taste. They all had the same expression Gabriel would have when looking at him like he was supposed to be more than he was. Aziraphale suspected he wasn't a very good angel anymore. He liked his earthly delights a little too much and spent a lot of his time cavorting with a demon (though Heaven didn't know about that).

But uncomfortable or not, Aziraphale was determined.

So he slinked into the Garden one chilly November night and sighed as he was hit with the soft, balmy air. The sound of bird songs filled the air. He couldn't help but smile. The birds here were the kind you just couldn't see on Earth, at least not anymore. Turns out that God wasn't thrilled that humanity was causing other species to go extinct and every time one was on the brink, God would pull some into Eden. The Garden had to keep expanding to hold all the different species.

"Like a living museum." A dark thought swirled in his mind before he could stop it. He'd noticed that certain animals no longer on Earth weren't in the Garden. Animals wiped out by acts of God never seemed to make it inside.

Aziraphale shook himself. Now was not the time to be considering the nature of man and God. Right now, he had a job to do.

He pushed forward into the Garden, his small cloth bag catching on thorns and branches. His coat started catching, and he regretted not wearing something sturdier. But he wasn't about to head back and change, he had an important job to do.

And by golly, he would do it in time for dinner.

"You're early," Aziraphale said when he met Crowley at the small restaurant that evening.

"Well." Crowley flushed, the blush racing up his neck to flood his face. "Didn't want to be late."

"And you look very dapper." Crowley always looked fashionable, but he often had a style that was a bit too sharp for Aziraphale's taste. Today he looked soft. His colours were gentle and complimentary, his aftershave subtle and pleasant. All things Aziraphale appreciated.

"Thanks." Crowley didn't meet his eyes. "We going in?" The demon didn't wait for him to answer and stalked in ahead. He was already in discussion with the host when Aziraphale caught up with him. Aziraphale trailed along behind as they were taken to a small corner table by the window.

"This is nice," Aziraphale said once seated.

"You've not tried anything yet." Crowley shuffled on the spot, looking delightfully awkward.

"I meant the atmosphere, it's very homely."

"We can go somewhere fancy if you like." Crowley sounded panicked.

"Silly boy. I just said I liked this. You should pick the venue more often, I think." Crowley blushed again.

"I, uh, tried to find somewhere you'd like but wouldn't think to try yourself."

"Well, gold star." Aziraphale smiled as two bottles of wine were delivered to the table. "Stellar effort."

"Can we talk about something else?" Crowley's face was post box red at this point. Aziraphale considered making him suffer.

"Alright, now as you put in so much effort," he couldn't resist making Crowley blush harder. "I brought you a little gift."

"Gift!" Crowley nearly spat out the wine he was sipping. "We said nothing about gifts!"

"Calm down, you did all this. That's your gift." Aziraphale gestured at the charming little restaurant and Crowley's effort to dress up a bit.

"S'not an actual gift," Crowley muttered, but Aziraphale ignored himand pulled a tall box out of his bag.

"For you," Aziraphale said. "Open it, please." Crowley eyed the box. It was simple cream paper with a green bow. He went to tear at it, but Aziraphale stopped him. "No, you just lift the box from the bottom, careful it's delicate." Crowley raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Really?" he gently gripped the box and lifted. There was a moment of resistance before the weight inside caused the bottom of the box to pop out and the top to lift off completely.

Crowley stared in silence.

Aziraphale held his breath.

"Well?" Aziraphale said after a long moment. "Do you like it?" Crowley didn't answer straight away. Instead, he reached out and gently pinched a wide purple leaf in his fingertips and gently rubbed.

"How did you get this?" he breathed.

"Well, it wasn't easy." Aziraphale preened. "I had to buy a little shovel and everything." Crowley snorted quietly and continued to examine the specimen in front of him. The wide purple leave, the delicate and intricate pink blossoms.

"I've only ever seen these once before," Crowley said. Aziraphale nodded.

"Yes." He puffed his chest out in pride.

"In the Garden," Crowley whispered. Aziraphale nodded. "You went back to the Garden to get this for me."

"Well, man and demon can't get in so I knew you'd not already have one and I know how much you like botany so…" Aziraphale trailed off. Crowley was looking at him intensely. He took off his glasses so Aziraphale could see his eyes.

"Thank you," he said. "This is… it's perfect."

"Happy anniversary," Aziraphale said, raising his glass. "I knew we should have celebrated this before."

End

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