Crowley is going to switch gender whenever he feels like it, because that's how our favorite demon rolls. Aziraphale is going to switch gender once, maybe twice, because it looked like it might be fun.

In case that's a deal breaker for you, in the notes at the top of each chapter I'll list what gender they've decided to be, as well as where they are, and what relative time period is.

Chapter One: fem!Crowley/male!Aziraphale - 32nd Century, Egypt

It was a lovely day outside, so naturally Aziraphale had the blinds down, and the door tightly locked. A sign in the window declared in no uncertain terms that the shop was closed, and it was anyone's guess when he'd open again.

Behind him Crowley had moved the couch so it was perfectly positioned in a beam of light. Aziraphale continued to move it as the sun shifted, keeping the demon content and warm.

Aziraphale was busily reorganizing, humming softly to some nameless forgotten tune, when his eyes fell on a beautifully crafted mahogany box. It was heavy, and polished to a shine, still in perfect condition, even if the angel hadn't thought of it for who knew how long.

He shifted over to Crowley, lightly snoring, and joined him on the couch.

Crowley woke up as his legs moved, but when he realized Aziraphale was joining him he hurriedly shifted around so he could cuddle more fully into the angel's chest.

"It wasn't very romantic you know," Aziraphale murmured, taking the ring out of its treasured box.

"It wasn't romantic?" Crowley said indignantly without opening his eyes. "I'll have you know I am exceedingly romantic in everything I do."

Aziraphale smiled at the intricately woven reeds, which had been tinted white and edged with gold. "I was wasn't even convinced you were serious."

"You agreed, and you weren't sure I meant it?" Crowley bit playfully at Aziraphale's vest, still soaking up the delicious heat around him.

"I've never been able to say no to you –"

"You say no to me all the time."

"Never when it's something important –"

"Especially when it's something important."

"Come now –"

"You wouldn't even give me the holy water at first."

"I didn't want you to kill yourself!"

"...You thought I was going to kill myself?"

"Well –"

"Angel, and I mean this with all seriousness, were you drunk at the time?"

"That's hardly fair."

"You thought I was going to kill myself! Me!"

"You wanted holy water!"

"And it certainly came in handy, exactly as I intended."

Aziraphale huffed. "You could have just told me why you needed it."

"Anyway," Crowley said, audibly rolling his eyes from where his face was pressed to Aziraphale's chest, "What did I do that was such a romantic flop?"

Aziraphale held the ring in front of Crowley's nose, until the demon peeked an eye open. He settled back down with an amused smirk. "Considering the time period, it was quite romantic. I was pledging myself to you. Can't get more romantic than that."

"You presented it as a learning experience."

"There was no way you would have said yes otherwise. You needed some proper logical excuse."

"I'm not so sure."

"Then you're lying to yourself, angel. Trust me."

It was sometime in the 32nd Century.

Aziraphale was just passing through the region of Egypt, and had decided to stop and see the spectacular monuments that had been erected, and what he found was astounding.

Hieroglyphics.

It was the first time he'd ever seen humans do something so interesting as writing. He had to know more, and soon procured himself a position as a scribe. It was fairly easy to do if one was male, so of course he made sure he was one.

For the most part everything was fine. A minor miracle and the humans accepted him as one of their own. It was never questioned as to who he was, who his parents were, or where he came from. In their minds it was as though he had always been there. But being a man, and being single meant there was a certain amount of attention on him from women looking for an employed man, and men looking out for their daughters.

Aziraphale did what he always did in these situations, and ignored it. He wasn't interested. This didn't fix the situation for any of the humans involved, but to Aziraphale the subject was closed and so he put it from his mind.

His fellow scribes would not be dissuaded and every day one would do their best to get his attention, dropping very large hints about their daughters who were, or soon would be, in need of a husband.

Much to their disappointment, Aziraphale was very slow to take a hint. So slow in fact it seemed like he never really caught on to what they were talking about. It was adorably amusing to think such an educated man could be so oblivious, so instead of growing irritated or annoyed, he just garnered amusement.

A scribes job was easy work. Well, if you knew how to read and write in the very complex hieroglyphics it was an easy job. Aziraphale took to it like a duck to water, and was well known to his peers as becoming so absorbed in his work that the building could collapse around him, and it would probably take a few days for him to notice, and then only if someone tapped him on the shoulder a few times.

But he was attractive, and he was kind, and he had a steady job that paid well. He clearly just needed a guiding hand in his life. Someone who could balance him.

"My daughter," Masudi assured his fellow scribes. "She would be perfect for him."

"No, no, my daughter would be," Nailah argued. "She has an adventurous spirit, but I think that is what he needs! He's far too serious."

"He already turned you down. Twice."

"Bah, he thought I was giving him a gift, not a wife. I'll get through to him today."

"Not if I do first."

The two men glared at each other over Aziraphale's oblivious head.

"Excuse me?"

All heads but one turned to the door, where a beautiful woman leaned. Her appearance was not what they would consider classically beautiful, but her appearance was striking nonetheless. She was tall, and very thin, standing with a casual grace as she peered into the room. Her long red hair was done up in braids that fell down her back, decorated with gold that glittered in the sun. Most shocking were her bright yellow eyes that both appalled and intrigued.

"Did you need help with something, sister?" Masudi asked, filling the silence.

She ignored him, her eyes on Aziraphale. When he failed to look up she smiled in fond amusement and sauntered to his work space. She leaned her hip against the table, brushing his hand. Finally Aziraphale looked up and his face broke into a wide, sunny smile. "Crowley!"

The other men in the room drooped in defeat. It was so obvious from his posture, to his expression, to the new light in his eyes. This man clearly was already taken.

"Take a walk with me, angel," Crowley purred.

Aziraphale smiled and stood, leaving his work forgotten.

The scribes looked on in shock. Aziraphale never left work unfinished. The mysterious woman Crowley winked at them as she ushered Aziraphale out.

"You're looking lovely!" Aziraphale said as they stepped out into the light. "The sun quite suits you."

"Kissed by Ra, the humans are saying," Crowley said with an amused smirk. "Aren't they adorable? Praying to the sun of all things. Though I suppose that has always been a staple for humanity at some point or another."

"Not just the sun," Aziraphale said beaming. "They have over two thousand Gods, representing all sorts of things. It's quite fascinating."

"Doesn't seem like that bothers you. What would your side say?" Crowley teased.

Aziraphale hummed and started down the street, Crowley walking cheerfully beside him. "I'm sure my side would have plenty to say. But I would say... humanity is a wonderful thing. And they're growing and evolving, and as they do their faith does. And maybe they'll pray to many things, or maybe they'll pray to nothing. And that's ok. They are as our Mother made them. Who are we to judge?"

Crowley couldn't help but link their hands. It was that or stop time and throw him against a wall.

"Have you noticed all the humans staring at you?" Aziraphale asked.

Crowley glanced at the men – and women – stopping their work to watch them pass. "It's my job to draw attention, angel. Sow temptation and all that."

"Temptation? Does that mean you've had... lovers?"

"That's quite improper to ask, angel. I'm not married, so in this society at least it doesn't matter who I sleep with."

"But have you?"

"Would you be jealous if I had?"

"Of – of course not! Don't be ridiculous."

"I think you are," Crowley sang.

"I..." Aziraphale trailed off, looking anywhere except Crowley, embarrassed beyond measure. "So what do these lovers call you?"

"I never said I had lovers, angel."

"You implied it."

"Or your jealousy is turning your head."

Aziraphale sighed. "Fine, have your secrets."

"Don't be like that, angel. I'm not sleeping with them. I'm just... tempting them. Nothing wrong with tempting."

"I'm sure some would disagree."

"Someone always does, the key is not to care."

"That has always been one of your many talents."

"Technically then my lovers don't call me anything. But no, I don't go by Crowley here, that's silly."

"Odd, I thought you liked the name."

"Well, Crowley's not really an Egyptian name, is it?"

"What do you go by then?"

"When I'm in this region I go by Omorose."

"That's a beautiful name, good choice."

Crowley flushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Doesn't matter. What name are you going by?"

"...Just Aziraphale."

"No, seriously."

"What, is that bad?"

"It's your actual name, angel! And it doesn't even match the region! What do the humans around you think?"

"It hasn't really come up."

"Really. That guy back there wanted you to marry his daughter, but your name hasn't come up?"

"I mean, of course I've told them my name, it just hasn't been an issue."

"Oh, angel," Crowley sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"What name should I have taken?"

"Hanbal would have been nice."

"I'm... not familiar with that one."

Crowley leaned in close, her lips brushing Aziraphale's ear. "Pure. Pristine. Perfect."

"T-that's hardly – I mean, I –"

"I think it suits you."

Aziraphale blushed brightly. He cleared his throat. "Does that mean you don't want me to call you Crowley when we're here?"

"What? No, don't be daft. Of course you can still call me Crowley."

"Does that mean you'll still call me Aziraphale?"

"Of – yes! What are you talking about?"

"In that case, why do I need to pick a human name?"

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, it only matters what you call me, doesn't it?"

Crowley stuttered to a halt, her mind short circuiting. "...what I...?"

"After all, these humans are so very young, aren't they? And so fragile." Aziraphale walked ahead, completely unaware that he'd said something so mind shattering.

"– w-what I call –"

Aziraphale finally noticed he was walking alone. He turned back curiously. "Crowley?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah. Yeah, totally. Just fine. Don't mind me." She took a few hurried steps to catch back up.

"You sure?"

Crowley shook herself. "Just fine."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Aziraphale asked.

"I was in the neighborhood, and I decided to see how you were getting on. I didn't realize you were just... what was it you were doing?"

"Writing."

"That's new. Sounds interesting."

"It is!"

"I also heard about something interesting."

"Oh?"

"Look at this!" With a flourish Crowley opened her palm, revealing a tight, intricately woven band. It was impossibly white, edged with gold. Aziraphale's eyes widened, and he leaned close as Crowley knew he would. She inwardly cheered.

"My, that is lovely. What is it?"

"It's a ring, angel, obviously."

"What is it for?"

"For this." Crowley took Aziraphale's left hand, placing it on the fourth finger.

Aziraphale held it up to the light, admiring it. "Did you make this?"

"I did."

"It's wonderful."

Crowley preened.

"But what is it for?"

Crowley hummed, linking their hands together again and tugging Aziraphale towards the river. "What do you think about marriage?"

Aziraphale frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Thoughts, angel! I want to know what's going on in that head of yours."

"Well... it seems to serve a variety of purposes. The main one is just joining households. A sharing of land and property."

"Do you know the other purpose."

Aziraphale shrugged. "There are a lot of purposes, dear. It depends on the people and the circumstances."

Crowley stopped, Aziraphale obediently falling in beside her. "It's not just about money, or land, or social standing. I mean yes, a lot of the time it is. But in some cases, in special cases, it is about romance. That's why I'm here."

"I'm sure that happens in more places than just here."

"Ok, fair. But this is new. This is here." Crowley took Aziraphale's hand, touching the band. "This ring? It goes on this finger specifically, because according to these humans there is a vein – the vena amoris – that runs from this finger directly to the heart."

"I'm not sure that's actually biologically true, dear."

Crowley shrugged. "But it's a good sentiment, I'm sure you agree."

Aziraphale ducked his head, smiling. "It is."

"And it also just so happens to be a circle. A powerful symbol, a band without end representing eternal life and love." Crowley bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. Then she straightened her shoulders and stepped into Aziraphale's space, holding his hand tightly, making sure there would be no mistake. "Will you wear this for me?"

"You... want to marry me?

"What if I do?"

"We're mortal enemies!"

But he didn't step back. He didn't shake her off. Crowley counted it as a small victory, and pressed further.

"Are we though? Do you think I'm your enemy? Do you think I want to hurt you?"

"Well... we're meant to be."

"I don't particularly care what we're meant to be, angel. I want you to wear this ring for me. If... if you want to."

Aziraphale's eyes dropped to his finger, the beautifully crafted ring looking perfect where it sat. "It doesn't seem like this will have much longevity."

Crowley smiled impishly. "We'll just have to keep updating them then."

Aziraphale worried his lip. "It's not that I don't want to... it's just... my side would not like this."

"Why not? Marriage is quite important to humans. How are you going to get to know this side of them if you haven't been married?"

"Well –"

"And don't tell me you're going to marry one of them. They're... children! Think of all you've seen compared to them, all you've done." Crowley leaned into Aziraphale's side. "But I know what you've seen. I know what you've done. You can't take advantage of me. I would argue it would be morally wrong to marry some human. I'm the only other logical choice. That is, unless you want to try marrying Gabriel, and let's face it, that's disgusting." Crowley stuck her tongue out in disgust and shuddered.

"Is that the only reason you want to do this?" Aziraphale asked carefully. "For the experience?"

"Do you really have to ask that?" Crowley looked at him from under lowered lashes, fully aware of the effect.

Aziraphale looked at her uncertainly, and Crowley finally gave into the temptation to kiss the look off his face.

"Oh," Aziraphale said breathlessly.

"Oh, he says," Crowley said, rolling her eyes playfully. But Aziraphale's eyes were trained on her lips, and Crowley felt a bit proud of herself.

"... So you... You feel...?"

"Yes, angel. Obviously."

"...and what exactly would... this... entail?"

"Nothing terribly important. Just that you'll love and honor me."

Aziraphale chuckled. "Just that?"

"And that I'll love and honor you too."

"And that's all there is to marriage?"

"Well, customs are different everywhere. Here I think you'd talk to my father, negotiate what price you want for my hand, and then I'd just... move in."

A sly smile spread across Aziraphale's face. "So what exactly am I getting for your hand?"

With a laugh Crowley leaned in. The kiss was meant to be silly. Just a joke. Something to surprise. Instead it was achingly tender tinged with desperation. They both clutched at each others clothing, trying to get closer, refusing to let go.

Eventually they had to part, but they didn't move far. Crowley settled for peppering kisses across Aziraphale's cheeks, while the angel nuzzled into her collar.

"I'll take that as a yes then?" she asked.

"Yes."

Crowley brushed her nose against his. "Then I think you owe me a ring as well, angel."

"I knew you wanted something," Aziraphale teased. He closed his hand, and when he opened it there was a tightly woven ring made of gold and lined with black. "Will you wear this for me?"

Crowley kissed him again. She knew they were starting to get some looks, but that just made her all the more bold. "Naturally."

"I suppose now you just need to move in, right?"

"Take me home, angel."

Crowley slipped the ring back on Aziraphale's finger with a fond smile. "You said it wouldn't last, angel."

Aziraphale smiled. "You are a master craftsman."

"Craftsperson."

"Craftsangel?"

"Craftsdemon then."

"It's so lovely, why did we ever stop wearing them?"

Crowley caressed the gold ring sitting on Aziraphale's finger. "We can put them back on if you like. Or we can update them again."

"I suppose we haven't had a ceremony in a few hundred years."

"Has it really been that long?"

"And I'm sure our new friends would like to attend. This could be fun!"

"How do humans get married these days?"

"I'm... not sure actually. But I'm sure Anathema would know. She seems like a clever girl. Or Madam Tracy!"

Crowley imagined a leather drenched wedding and had to stop himself from laughing. "We'll start with Anathema."

Thank you for reading!