Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations the characters find themselves in. Thanks so much for continuing to read and for giving me feedback on my work. It's muchly appreciated and I do read every review you send me!

Note: Sorry this took so long, I was sick for over two weeks and yeah...heavily medicated lol.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Eleventh and Twelfth Day of Christmas

The Eleventh Day

Twas the day before Christmas and all through the city, lots of creatures were stirring, including the mice. In fact Crowley figured that the city's mice-and the rats-were all but dancing in their tiny mouse and ratholes. The coming feasts would mean crumbs everywhere and lots of food being wasted and thrown out eventually when people got sick of eating turkey and stuffing. Crowley smirked to himself thinking about how the cats would be happy, picking the fat rodents off as they fell into food comas alongside the humans. And possibly a literal coma in the case of humans since the overeating, plus the family exposure, might cause people to end up in actual comas. Or the morgue.

Ah, the circle of life.

If he was being honest-something he was loathed to do being a demon and all-Crowley would have had to admit to being hesitant to go out because he didn't want to miss the delivery or deal with the holiday crowds. He wanted to avoid both equally, which was saying something. But in the end Crowley had settled for sending a message to Aziraphale to make sure that the angel knew that Crowley was going to his favorite Korean place for some beef stir-fry for lunch before leacing his place. He'd disguised the message/warning by pretending that he just wanted to send the angel a quick Christmas greeting and 'happened' to mention that he was headed out. It would have to do. He'd had a craving for the stir-fry that couldn't be ignored.

Now belly full and craving satisfied Crowley was in the right frame of mind to wonder just how the hell Aziraphale planned to pull off the whole 'elven pipers piping'.

In the song that would be eleven people playing the flute or a pipe of some sort which would, in reality, drive Crowley to extreme violence in a heartbeat. He was NOT a fan of flute music. Never had, never would be. Plus you'd think that arranging for a group of musicians to come and play for him would be difficult on Christmas Eve.

Though unfortunately not impossible since plenty of musicians were starving. Or didn't celebrate Christmas. Damn.

On the other, more preferable hand Crowley had considered the possibility of eleven actual pipes, which he'd enjoy. Aziraphale might like that idea-thought Aziraphale was also very anti-smoking once word got out how harmful smoking was. The fact that Crowley couldn't die from smoking probably wouldn't factor into the angel's reasoning.

Were plumbers who put in pipes called pipers? No. That would be stupid. On a number of levels. There were birds called pipers though, weren't there? No, those were called sandpipers o that probably wouldn't count. There'd also been a band by that name back in the seventies, maybe?

Pulling out his phone the demon accessed Wikipedia and looked up the word 'piper', going down the list of People, fictional characters, films, artists, songs, video games, biology, places, transportation and other uses.

The biology section indicated that there was a plant called piper. A type of pepper plants and vines. That would be appreciated. He did like spicy food. But would the spiciness be considered 'piping'? Probably not.

Musing over his gift and what it could be the whole way home Crowley arrived at his front door and almost missed the fact that there was another gift bag hanging off his door handle.

"Thank you, Go-Godiva." It was a crap save, but the best Crowley could do as he removed the bag and held it up to eyelevel. It was only slightly bigger than his palm, and obvious wasn't a bunch of musicians. Excellent.

Heading inside, swinging the bag almost merrily, Crowley carried the bag over to his couch and flopped down onto it, staring at the bag for a minute or so before reaching in to retrieve...what?

Pulling the object out Crowley stared at the item wrapped in bright snowman paper. A...CD or DVD? That's what the shape of it reminded the demon of.

"Crap. Maybe flute music after all." Damn.

Ripping off the paper Crowley found himself staring at a clear case that revealed the CD within through the plastic. It looked like one of those CDs people bought from a stationary or other business supply shops back in the nineties. Turning the case around in his hands Crowley found himself looking at the piece of paper inserted there to list-eleven songs. With the names of bands Crowley actually recognized.

The Cranberries. Linkin Park. AC/DC. Queen. What the Hell?!

The bands were all neatly listed, then the song. And now that he was really looking at it there was slightly smaller print listing the-the cover artist?

Confused, but curious enough to risk his ears, Crowley got to his feet and then walked over to his desk to retrieve his laptop where he'd left it. Thankfully it was a model that still took discs. Something old fashion loving Aziraphale might not have even realized could be an issue.

He probably should be glad the angel hadn't made him a mixtape. Though he could have played that too. It would just make skipping over songs harder if necessary.

Bringing up the music Crowley had only a moment to wonder and then the first song started playing automatically.

The Cranberries song 'Zombie'. Played...on bagpipes.

He recognized the song of course, just as he recognized Johnny Cash's 'Ring of Fire' when that followed the first song. As if he wouldn't recognize any of the Man in Black's songs.

Flipping through the songs, he'd listen to each one individually after, Crowley instead focused on confirming the fact that yes, each of the rock songs on the homemade CD were instrumentals...played on the bagpipes.

"I don't even like bagpipes! Though they are better than bloody flutes."

And these were all excellent covers. The novelty more than anything else made Crowley laugh and shake him head in fond amusement.

"What will he think of next?"

Hold on...this was the second last one. Tomorrow would be the last present. The last...what would happen after Christmas Day? Would Aziraphale reveal it was him or play dumb because he was under the delusion that it wasn't frightfully obvious he was behind all this? Would he expect him to confront him with the truth, confirming their bond, or would he be disappointed that Crowley had figured it out? And there was still that fifth ring somewhere, waiting to be sprung on him when he least expected it.

Crowley wasn't sure why, but suddenly in his mind he was picturing Aziraphale showing up with a golden brown doughnut as a present instead of an actual ring. That would have been genius, actually. Save for the fact that Crowley much preferred the actual rings and the idea that he and Aziraphale would share matching ones. Once he gave two of them to Aziraphale. Eventually. Tomorrow?

"Damn. Figuring out how to deal with the Anti-Christ was easier than this."

)

Twelfth Day of Christmas

Crowley spent Christmas Day morning as he had for the last decade or so. Aka sprawled out on his couch with buttery popcorn while binge watching the first three Home Alone movies. That's what Christmas meant to him. Junk food and watching stupid adults be utterly schooled by a possibly psychopath in the making. You could only be traumatized by your family, and to a lesser extent the homicidal thieves bent on making you pay for your twisted, should have killed them dead traps, before you ended up just as twisted.

Just look at Macaulay Culkin and all he'd gone through. And he'd just played the kid in the first two movies.

Stretching out as his thoughts turned to child actors and how often they went over to the Dark Side-like shooting fish in a barrel sometimes-Crowley started to shake his head, only to freeze like a deer in headlights at the sound of a knock at his door.

"What the Hell?" It was far too early for a delivery. Especially on Christmas bloody Day. All his other deliveries had come around lunch time or later. It wasn't even ten thirty yet.

The knocking came again, Crowley suddenly knowing in his gut exactly who he would find on the other side of his door. No delivery person this time.

Setting aside his over half full bowl on the table and spilling some in his haste, Crowley swiped a hand through his messy, unstyled hair and cursed that fact and his appearance as he hurried towards his door. Thankfully he could snap his fingers so that he went from sweats and a very old band T-shirt to one of his preferred all black ensembles, his hair also appropriately styled as he unlocked and then opened his door to see that he'd been right.

"Hello, Angel."

"Happy Christmas!" Aziraphale beamed at him, the angel wearing one of his all white suits. Though the vest on this one featured a subtle pattern of silver snowflakes on it that was both Christmasy and very Aziraphale.

Leaning against his doorway, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, Crowley worked up a devilish grin. "I was wondering if I'd see you today."

"Oh?"

His angel had no poker face whatsoever.

"Have you come to bring great tidings of great joy?"

"Ah...oh, right. No. I mean yes! I mean...well I hope my dropping by isn't an inconvenience."

"Nah. Come in."

Stepping aside to let the angel pass by him Crowley covertly looked the other man over for signs of his final present but seeing none. And that suit was definitely tailored tight enough that a package would show. So what was the plan for his twelve drummers drumming? God, he hoped Aziraphale wasn't planning to drag him outside for some strange concert or something.

"You didn't decorate for-well of course you didn't. Christmas has never really been your thing, has it." Fidgeting with his fingers Aziraphale was looking all around him like a mouse scenting the cat as Crowley closed the door behind them.

"Not really my team's sort of thing. Former team, anyway. So what brings you by, Angel?"

Like he didn't already know.

"Well I...you see I...oh bother. You know I'm the one who's been sending you the presents, right? You were giving me such looks before, at the park, and when I asked their opinions both Newt and Anathema said you'd know immediately it was me."

Crowley couldn't have stopped his lips from twitching in amusement if he'd tried.

"I did figure it out eventually, yeah."

Sighing somewhat dejectedly, his cheeks noticeably pinker than usual, Aziraphale wrung his hands a little as he asked if Crowley was angry at him.

"Nah. Though I did wonder why. Also there's one more present coming, right?"

Perking up Aziraphale nodded eagerly. "There is. And it was most difficult, I must say. I really had to wrack my brain for the last three."

"So twelve drummers drumming?"

"Yes." Reaching into his pocket Aziraphale withdrew a single piece of folded up paper, holding it out to Crowley with almost childish excitement and nerves.

Taking the paper Crowley unfolded it and then opened it up to see that on the paper, typed out in font that suggested a typewriter had been employed, was a list of what appeared to be twelve schools.

"Schools?"

"Yes. I donated twelve drum sets to twelve schools here in London. Thus generations of children will learn to play them at school and then possibly go home and get their parents to buy them their own. That is the instrument parents most dread their children taking up, isn't it?"

It took a moment for that to sink in. And when it did Crowley just stared at the angel, words beyond him.

"You...you don't like it?" Aziraphale's face fell. "I...I thought it would appeal to you. The evilness of it. Well, all right, it's not terribly evil, I admit it. But I'm an Angel, Crowley. You know doing mean things is-is against my very nature! But I thought of it as being like that ghastly motorway from Hell you created. And drums are very annoying, especially when they aren't being played properly. And if a student ends up being a good one then odds are in they'll end up in some horrible band and get into drugs and other nasty vices while they try to get famous and then that will be one more person for your side, yes? Oh bother. I knew I should have just hired twelve drummers to walk around the neighborhood banging on the blasted things to annoy everyone but-but it's Christmas, Crowley, and how could I-mmph."

Later Crowley would shake his head over that whole little speech, but his brain had pretty much shut down at that point and so he was operating on instinct.

Hence the fact that he'd just grabbed Aziraphale by his lapels and hauled him in for a thank you kiss.

And of course Aziraphale tasted of happiness, sunshine and sugar. Of course he did.

So soft too. And so adorable in the way his angel so sweetly and hesitantly sighed into the kiss and relaxed against him, Aziraphale's hands coming up to rest on his shoulders.

Letting go of Aziraphale's suit Crowley lowered his arms so that he could wrap them around the angel, the shudder that went through Aziraphale's body enough of a shock to Crowley's system that his brain reengaged enough to panic.

Pulling back with a gasp Crowley stared into Aziraphale's eyes, the need to apologize warring with the fact that Aziraphale didn't look at all upset with him. And more importantly wasn't trying to get away from him.

So they stood there like a couple of idiots for several minutes instead.

"You...there's not mistletoe, is there?"

"What?"

"Is that why you-is there mistletoe somewhere?" To emphasis his point Aziraphale tilted his head up and looked around for the plant in question before shyly going back to meeting Crowley's gaze.

"No." Crowley managed to croak out. "No mistletoe."

"Oh." The pink of Aziraphale's cheeks darkened, the shy and pleased little smile that curved those cupid lips doing terrible things to Crowley's heart. "So you-you kissed me because you...you wanted to?"

The best Crowley could manage was a nod. He was pretty sure he was blushing now too, damn it.

"And you wouldn't...be opposed to doing that again. Perhaps?"

It took longer than it probably should have for that to sink in.

"Yes? If you like."

"Yes, please."

There was really only one thing to say to that...

"Fuck. Happy Christmas to me."

The End

P.S. Crowley did get his fifth ring eventually. He just had to wait until Valentine's Day the following year.

He said yes.