Disclaimer: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Good Omens are created and copyrighted by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. This is a fanfic, intended only in the spirit of fun. Tons of love and thanks is owed to the amazing and wonderful Daegaer, who provided tons of feedback for the first half of the fic, and then ended upsomehow volunteering herself as a beta-reader and a proofreader, and who helped me correct many of my Americanisms with proper British English. And thanks to y'all for reading!

Ordinary Miracles

by Nenena

Chapter 05

Moore, Clement Clarke. "The Night Before Christmas." from Poems, 1844. Bartlett & Welford, New York. PS2429.M5

Christmas drew nearer, day by day. And Theo could see his hopes of earning his wings and becoming a proper angel drawing farther away, day by day. Nothing that he did seemed to work out right at all. As the city swung fully into Holiday mode, Aziraphale carted Theo around on his daily errands, and he always tried to let Theo try his hand at a few simple tasks, and he always seemed to have to clean up after Theo's inevitable mess afterwards.

There was, for example, the pious little old lady who wished that she could afford a piano so that she could teach music lessons to, and sing hymns with, the children in her neighborhood. She wished and wished for a piano, and then one day, while she was walking along on the sidewalk, a piano nearly fell on top of her and crushed her (although Aziraphale managed to save her at the last moment). There was the man who was tempted by a woman other than his wife, and thanks to some frank words from Theo, ended up convinced that yes, marriage was a constraining social construct legitimated by an oppressive society and that it would do both him and his wife a service if he would just walk out on her (and move in with his pretty blonde twenty-year-old girlfriend). There was the nice young doctor whose brilliant career promised to bring him close to a cure for AIDS, but whose life was about to be tragically cut short as he was supposed to be run down by a drunk driver while he was crossing the street one afternoon.

Thanks to the intervention of an apprentice angel, he was not hit by a drunk driver behind the wheel of a normal car; he was actually hit by a triple-decker bus running a red light. (Thanks to the frantic intervention of a more experienced angel, the doctor miraculously survived; Death, somewhat testily, vowed to file more paperwork against said angel.) There was the little girl who wished that her parents wouldn't divorce, who somehow ended up with duck feet for a day; and then there were her parents, who were seriously considering not divorcing, until an apprentice angel visited them, listened to both sides of their stories, and sagely convinced the wife that she was completely right, everything that had gone wrong in her life was all her husband's fault, and she was much better off just dumping the loser.

Nearly a week later, it was the day before Christmas. And Theo was at his wit's end. The tricky thing about making miracles was that there was actually quite a lot of quantum physics and thirteen-dimensional mathematical calculus involved. That, and one had to be careful about when, and where, and under what circumstances a miracle was applied to reality - it had to be aimed right, executed right, and timed just so. And if it was done wrong, some poor human could, say, end up with duck feet. Fortunately, the math and the quantum physics part of it all never bothered Aziraphale. This was because, after six thousands years of miracle-making, his angelic brain had practically automated the process, and any calculations that had to be done were more instantaneous reflex than they were an actual effort of thought. When Aziraphale wanted a miracle to be done, it was done. Simple as that.

It was probably a good thing that Aziraphale never bothered to stop and think about the maths, though. This was because he had never been particularly good at calculus.

Theo, however, couldn't even turn water into wine.

"I don't get it," Theo was complaining loudly that fateful pre-Christmas day, sitting in one corner of the bookshop while Aziraphale shelved books across the room. "I mean, I did everything just like it's supposed to go," he grumped, glaring at the glass of water he was holding in his lap. "But it won't work!"

Aziraphale turned and glanced at him, his eyes seeing something that only an angel could see. "You forgot to divide by the--" and then he said a perfectly thirteen-dimensional number that human ears could hardly comprehend "--and carry the two. You also forgot to carry the two."

"Oh," said Theo.

And then he finally was holding a glass of wine, although it was very watery wine, and when Aziraphale finally tried a sip, he discovered that it wasn't even a good wine, it was merely a cheap California fruit zinfandel. "Well," said Aziraphale encouragingly, "that's certainly an improvement, at least. Keep trying, you'll get the hang of it."

The angel wandered over to the counter where he kept his mostly unused cash register next to several dusty stacks of receipts and official-looking papers. He puttered around back there for a while, re-arranging papers, while Theo glared at his glass of zinfandel. Then Theo heard a strange fwoomp! sound, and caught a whiff of the scent of smoke and brimstone. He turned his head and saw that Aziraphale, a look of perfect surprise on his face, was suddenly holding a postcard in his hands. Aziraphale frowned for a moment at the card, and Theo heard his distinctly murmur, "He knows I hate it when he does that..."

Theo craned his neck to get a good look at the front of the card. All he could make out was a picture of some flames and flowing lava, and cheerful text that proclaimed, "Greetings from the Fifth Circle!"

"Who's that from?" Theo asked, putting aside his glass of zinfandel and crossing the room over toward the angel.

"Oh, dear," Aziraphale gasped faintly, the color draining from his face as he read whatever was written on the back of the card. "Oh, no." He slumped down into the chair he kept behind the counter, and began muttering to himself. "It's too soon. Once they catch up with him, they usually keep him Down There for decades at a time. No, he can't be coming here, not now, not tonight, it's such bad timing--"

"Who?" Theo asked again.

"Nobody," Aziraphale said too quickly, and the postcard in his hands suddenly vanished in a burst of flame. He wiped the subsequent ashes from his hands on his pants and stood up, saying brusquely, "Since it is Christmas Eve, I do have a full night of work scheduled for both of us. If you were planning on sleeping anytime in the next twenty-four hours, I'd suggest that you do so now."

Theo glanced up at the angel sharply. "Sleep? Now?! But it's the middle of the day!"

"We're going to be staying out and about all through the night. Are you yet at the point where you can handle that without sleep beforehand?"

"No," Theo admitted grudgingly.

"Then take a nap."

"I'm not a baby."

"Fine. Then take a respite."

"That's better." Theo turned and left, heading through the back room and up the stairs. He reached his bedroom, undressed, and laid down on his bed, his thoughts whirling a hundred miles a minute through his brain. Smoke, and the smell of brimstone. "Greetings from the Fifth Circle"?! Theo knew of only one place in the States where people send postcards with pictures of lava flows on them, and he was fairly certain that the angel hadn't just gotten a postcard from a friend in Hawaii.

Aziraphale was hiding something from him. Theo turned over in his bed and thought, Demons. They had told him that there was normally a demon in this city, wasn't there? Aziraphale hadn't mentioned so much as a single word about where Hell's servant was currently hiding itself or what Theo was ever supposed to do if he actually did come across a real live demon. In fact, Theo realized, after an entire week of his training had passed, Aziraphale hadn't even mentioned the word "demon", not even once.

Was Aziraphale perhaps... afraid of this particular demon?

Yes, Theo realized wearily, that would make the most sense. His opinion of the angel currently wasn't all that high, and he wondered that such a clever and fearful demon as he had been told lurked in this city hadn't already established his supremacy over the entire Isles, what with Aziraphale as his only competition and all. Maybe, Theo thought darkly, that was already the case. Maybe the clever and fearful demon already had Aziraphale under his thumb. Maybe he regularly sent the angel threatening postcards with creepy epithets like "Greetings from the Fifth Circle!" plastered across the front.

Nah, Theo thought, shaking his head against his pillow. Aziraphale might be addle-brained and a bad teacher, but he certainly didn't have the air of a cowed or defeated angel. Still, Theo suspected that the angel had to be at least afraid of the demon - that would account for the peculiar way that he had so far mentioned nothing to Theo about how he was to go about Fighting the Dark Forces. Theo guessed that Aziraphale's method was to just stay as far away from said Dark Forces as possible. And that awful postcard that the angel had received had certainly given him a bad fright, and it certainly appeared to originate from a demon. Theo clenched his jaw angrily. Well, Aziraphale could muddle about this demon problem all he wanted to, but he, Theo, wasn't about to let any old demon go around threatening his angel.

Theo sat up and hopped out of his bed. He rummaged through the drawers of the dresser in his room until he found what he was looking for - a silver crucifix, the type that normally hung above the doors of prayer schools and Bible schools, a cold, heavy, blunt metal object. It was an unornamental silver cross with a tiny silver figure of Jesus nailed to it. The silver Jesus' body was thin and twisted and his face was wracked with pain. Lovely thing, Theo thought bitterly. He'd found the crucifix lying at the bottom of his dresser drawer the second night he had moved in with the angel, when he had been exploring his dresser and his closest just for kicks. The crucifix was so painfully ugly, it was no wonder that the angel had chosen to tuck it away somewhere instead of actually hanging it up on any wall. Theo marveled that Aziraphale would own such a hideous object in the first place... But then he paused, glanced up at the wallpaper in his room and the paisley-covered comforter on his bed, and reminded himself, hey, this is Aziraphale we're talking about. There's just is no accounting for bad taste.

Still, Theo felt a lot safer with the cold metal holy object held in his hands. Still clutching the crucifix, Theo crawled back into his bed and fell easily asleep.

In the bookshop the level below Theo's bedroom, Aziraphale fretted.

He was very close to being in a state of panic. He still remembered what had been scrawled on the postcard's back, word-for-word.

Angel—

I don't know if you've figured this out yet or not, but I'm back Down Here again, and have been for a week. Funny thing is, they're letting me out early this time - for bad behavior. Tonight, in fact. I've actually been ordered to show up in the city before midnight tonight. It's the last place that I'd ever want to be, what with the Chorus in town tonight and all. I thought it would be safest if I dropped by your place for a drink and stayed there 'till the Chorus left. Heard you got kicked out this year anyway, and I could use a chat.

Sorry, didn't have a chance to pick you up any souvenirs from Guatemala. Figured you wouldn't want any souvenirs from Down Here. Although I never know, with your fetish for Dante and Bosch and all. How about I just buy some nice wine before I drop by?

PS - I already know about the plants. Am currently plotting heinous revenge.

Tonight, Aziraphale thought morosely. The bastard demon was going to up and impose himself tonight. He already knew about the plants somehow, so at least he wouldn't be surprised when he saw them happily sitting in the front window of the bookshop. Aziraphale was grateful for that small favor. But the demon didn't yet know about a cat named Margie or a rather incorrigible young boy named Theo who were currently sharing the bookshop with Aziraphale. And Aziraphale knew enough about Crowley to know that the demon generally did not play well with others. And he hated animals.

As if on cue, Margie suddenly appeared out of nowhere and rubbed herself against Aziraphale's legs, purring. Aziraphale reached down and absent-mindedly scratched the cat behind her ears. He was also, he thought wretchedly, worried about Theo. Theo didn't know anything about Crowley or the Arrangement or how demons actually lived and worked in the real world. Although they had never spoken of the subject, Aziraphale knew that Theo already harbored several very specific ideas about what demons were and what he, as an angel, was supposed to do if he ever ran across an actual demon.

What if Theo found out about the Arrangement and didn't approve?

If he decided to tattle to Heaven, Aziraphale would suddenly find himself in a world of trouble.

"And I don't think that dear Theo likes me all that much in the first place," Aziraphale commented rather wearily to Margie. "Meeting Crowley certainly isn't going to help that problem much, is it? It will probably just get worse from here on, I'm afraid."

Theo awoke in darkness. He had slept through the end of the day and into the night.

He sat up in bed and groggily rubbed his eyes. In one hand he still clutched the cold, silver crucifix. He took a few deep breaths, calmed himself, and sat still, listening.

There were voices coming from below his bedroom. Theo could hear the voices floating up the stairs - they must be coming from the back room, he realized. One voice was Aziraphale's, the other belonged to a stranger. Theo felt every hair on the back of his neck prickle and rise. He sensed the presence of something very dark, and very evil.

Quickly, Theo jumped out of bed and threw on some clothes. The he grabbed the crucifix again and very slowly, very carefully, tiptoed out of his room and across the floor space of the upper level.

Theo paused at the top of the stairs, and listened carefully. He still couldn't see them, but their voices were louder now. They definitely sounded as if they were in the back room, just out of the range of his sight from the very top of the staircase.

"Well, look at you!" the angel was gushing stupidly. "You look more, er, tanned than usual!"

"Yeah, well, I was running around the sub-tropical Andes for a while, and then, you know, being slow-roasted over an open fire Down There for a while, too."

"Oh, you poor thing. Was it bad this time?"

"It could have been worse. I did get out early, after all."

"Whatever for?"

"Because of you, you sneaky old bastard. Hey, since when did you keep a refrigerator in here? Indulging yourself in sweets and pastries at home now, are you? Take this vice of yours much farther and you'll need to punch a new hole in your belt again."

"Because of me?" Aziraphale asked, as if he hadn't even heard anything that the other one had said after.

"I don't know what you've been up to," the strange voice said cheerfully, and Theo could now hear the sound of ice and liquid being poured into glasses and stirred around, "but the guys upstairs, I mean, the guys upstairs Downstairs, have been detecting a massive surge in the amount of holy energy and divine emanations being thrown around this island over the past few days. And what with the Heavenly Chorus set to show up tonight, they just got a bit alarmed. They don't want to lose this city, so they sent me back up."

" 'Lose this city'? Dear boy, you seem to be laboring under an illusion."

"You've been making a bunch of very powerful demons very jittery. What the Heaven have you been up to?"

"Er... Crowley, there's something that I have to tell you."

"If it's about the plants, I told you, I already know. Just give me a couple years to think of a suitable revenge, and then you'll have yours." The sound of glasses clinking together. "Cheers. I was thinking I would cut your throat while you sleep."

"I don't sleep. And that's not one of your more original stunts, I must say," Aziraphale sighed. "Has being down around all that fire boiled your brains? Can't you think of something more exciting than that?"

"I dunno. I don't think I could ever top burning down your entire book collection, and some idiot human already beat me to that."

Theo crept farther down the stairs, clutching the cold crucifix tightly in his sweaty hands. Now he could see the tall figure called Crowley, standing next to the small table in the back room, addressing someone else seated at the table as he spoke. Crowley's back was turned and he was facing away from the stairs, but Theo could see the top of his dark head and the leather jacket and the black jeans he was wearing. Leather! Theo didn't want to think about how many good, innocent cows had been slaughtered to create that jacket. He clenched his jaw with rage. Yes, the stranger definitely smelled like demon.

"So 'fess up, angel," the demon was saying, as he tilted his head backward and sipped his drink. "Even I felt it when I came back... It's, hmm, weird, like your aura around here has been almost doubled, or something. Have you been miracling overtime, or what? That's not fair, you know. It messes with our agreement, and you know I was out of town and indisposed, and--"

"Crowley, it's not that."

"Why won't you look me in the eye when you talk to me?"

"Er..."

"I thought you weren't going to keep big secrets from me." Now the demon sounded grumpy. "Messes up the balance of power, that would." A pause, and then a sigh. "Are you just going to sit there like an idiot, or do you want me to get angry?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you anymore. You're not being very nice today."

"I'm NOT nice, that's the point!"

"Couldn't you at least try to be civil? It is Christmas Eve."

"Listen, angel... "

Theo clenched the crucifix tighter, listening to the demon continue to threaten Aziraphale. Well, it was the idiot angel's fault for letting him into the bookshop in the first place, and Theo had no idea how even a particularly wily demon could have fooled all but the most obtuse of angels into letting him into their home. But, to be fair, Theo could tell that Aziraphale was trying to resist the demon's ruthless interrogation, and was trying to protect Theo himself from being discovered by the demon. Well, that clinched it, then. If Aziraphale wasn't going to get them out of this mess, then it was up to Theo to be the hero and smite the demon.

He had better earn his wings for doing this.

Theo took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. Then he held out the crucifix in front of him, clenched his arm muscles tightly, mentally counted to three, and then launched himself forward.

He charged down the steps, screamed "Demon, be gone!" and whacked the demon with the crucifix, hard, across the back of his leather jacket.

"A-choo!" the demon sneezed.

Then he whirled around, took one look at Theo, and completely forgetting himself, exclaimed "What the HELL?!"

Theo stepped quickly backward, as far away as the cramped little room would allow, but still held out the crucifix in front of him. "I said, demon, be gone!" He waved the crucifix threateningly at the demon.

Crowley sneezed again. "Careful, kid, don't you know that some people are allergic to those things?" Then he turned and glowered at Aziraphale. It was very obvious that he was glowering, even though his eyes were hidden by a pair of opaque shades - it was something about the way that his entire face seemed to darken. "What the Heaven is that thing?" the demon asked, pointing an accusing finger at Theo.

"Crowley," said the angel calmly, "this is Theodore. Theodore, Crowley."

"And what the fuck is a Theodore? Some kind of pet?!"

"Watch your language, dear." Aziraphale took a calm, slow sip of some drink that Theo was absolutely certain angels weren't supposed to partake in. And, he figured, that infernal demon had probably poured it for him. That was the last straw - Theo had seen and heard enough.

"Don't listen to him!" Theo screamed at the idiot angel, thrusting the crucifix toward the demon again. "He's trying to trick you!!"

"Adam Fucking Antichrist," the demon swore, and backed away from Theo again. "I'm going to break out into hives if you keep waving that thing around. Stop it!"

Theo blinked at the demon, confused. He was fairly certain that touching the demon with a holy relic in the first place was supposed to have caused him to burst into flame and melt into a sludgy puddle of demon-goo. The demon seemed annoyed and increasingly upset about the crucifix being shoved into his face, but not fatally so. Theo wondered what could be wrong.

As if picking up on Theo's train of thought, Aziraphale said, "It's not going to hurt him any more, Theo, so please put that thing away. It's expensive," the angel admonished. "And you're being very rude, besides."

Theo gaped at the angel, and his arm holding the crucifix fell limp. "HOW can you be so CALM about this?! That is a real demon over there! Aren't you going to do your job and, and, and--" Theo waved his arms frantically in the air, frustration and disbelief momentarily impairing his ability to form a coherent thought, "--and smite him, or something?!"

"Goodness, no." The angel looked positively affronted at the suggestion.

Crowley plunked himself down in the seat opposite Aziraphale and continued glaring daggers at the angel. "If you had an obviously feral human child hidden up in your attic this whole time, I don't see why you couldn't have told me about it sooner."

"No, Crowley, Theo is new as of this week. And he's not a human anymore - he's an apprentice angel." Crowley's jaw dropped at that remark, but Aziraphale didn't seem to notice, as he turned his attention back to Theo. "If you'd put that relic down, dear, I'd love it if you would join Crowley and I for a drink. There's some soda for you, of course." And there was also suddenly a third empty chair at the table, where a moment before that had been only two, already occupied.

"No WAY!" Theo exploded. "No WAY am I going to sit down next to a demon and listen to you babble like an idiot! I mean, he-llo-o-o-! We are in DANGER here!"

"Absolutely," Crowley agreed, while casually examining his very, very sharp fingernails that were beginning to curve and hook in a way that suspiciously resembled claws. "There's nothing that incites me to violence more than the thought of silencing an obnoxiously loud, annoying voice."

"Really, Crowley," Aziraphale said severely. Then to Theo, "Listen to me, Theo. I don't know what they taught you about dealing with demons Up There, but down here, those of us who have to deal with them every day know a thing or two more than the paper-pushers that were your first teachers. For instance, I've discovered that it's a waste of time to go running around chasing demons and threatening them with a great big flaming sword. Smiting only gets you so far, and they always come back in the end. So," he said with a warm, angelic smile, "down here we do not fight with demons. We share a nip with them instead."

"Hey, kid," said Crowley with a grin that exposed his very, very sharp teeth. "Come on and ssssit down, I won't bite. Unlessssss you give me a good reasssson to."

Theo backed one step up the stairs. "You're crazy," he whispered to Aziraphale.

"Dear me," Aziraphale sighed, "I was afraid this was going to happen. Crowley, stop smiling like that, you're not helping. And you know I dislike it when you do that horrible voice of yours."

"Ssssssorry."

"It's against the rules to consort with demons," Theo said, a bit louder this time.

"It's against the rules to consort with the Enemy," Aziraphale corrected him. "Crowley is not technically an Enemy."

"Oh? But isn't he a demon?"

"Yes, but he's also good, and he's my friend."

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Idiot angel, I told you not to say things like that--"

"Oh, come off it, Crowley. I understand your concern with maintaining your reputation, but there's nobody here besides Theo and I. And really, you still aren't helping anything by being your usual abrasive self."

Theo stepped back down into the room again, although hesitantly. The demon had addressed Aziraphale as "idiot angel," which made Theo immediately feel as though there was at least one small, tiny thing that he shared in common with the demon. They both apparently held the same opinion of Aziraphale. "I've still got this crucifix," he growled at the demon.

"Oooooh, I'm so scared."

"You want to sneeze your brains out?"

"Kid, I just came back from a week in Hell's torture chambers. I had my brains popped out of my head, via a variety of interesting methods, more times than I could possibly count. You don't scare me a bit. You annoy me, though, which could in time be very bad for your health."

"Really?" said Aziraphale with apparent interest. "I didn't know they were into brain removal Down There."

"Oh yes. I sent Belial a copy of 'Hannibal' last Christmas and he fell in love with it. He's instituted the brain-eating bit all across the Four Hundred and Fifty-First Circle, which is where all the television chefs go when they die."

Theo stepped forward again, somewhat less hesitantly. "I thought that there were only nine circles," he said.

"Yeah, well," Crowley shrugged, "a couple thousand years ago, Hell got overcrowded, we figured that nine circles just weren't enough, so we've been expanding ever since."

Theo finally reached the empty chair and sat down, sullenly, still glaring at Crowley. "How'd you get in here in the first place?"

"I told you," Aziraphale explained, with only the slightest hint of impatience in his voice, "I invited Crowley in. He's been gone for a while, and I wanted to catch up with him a bit." The angel sounded as if this were so painfully obvious that he couldn't believe that Theo didn't understand it yet.

"And I could ask you the same question," Crowley added, stirring his drink with his finger, which Theo thought to be incredibly rude. "How'd a malicious little brat like you ever get slated for a halo?"

"God chose me," Theo answered haughtily.

Crowley grumbled something to himself in a language that made Theo's skin crawl. Theo huffed angrily and stared at a bottle of cola that had suddenly appeared at his spot courtesy of he-could-guess-who, willing it to turn into wine, thinking that he could at least try to frighten the demon with a casual display of his awesome powers. Unfortunately, the cola seemed determined to stay cola. Aziraphale coughed and tried desperately to change the subject. "So. Crowley. How was Guatemala? I hear it's lovely this time of year."

"It was amazingly sunny. After living in this city for hundreds of years I'd practically forgotten what the sun looked like."

From behind Theo, something mewed. He turned his head and saw Margie, crouched at the corner of the stairs, eyeing the trio at the table with suspicion. Theo felt relieved that at least someone else in this house seemed concerned that there was a demon sitting in the back room, helping himself to Aziraphale's finest liquor.

"Any plans for tonight?" Aziraphale asked casually, pouring himself another helping of something terribly un-angelic.

"I was planning on lying low, staying home, and being bored, what with the Chorus above town and all," Crowley answered, again studying his claws, "but then I heard a rumor that somebody got kicked out of the Chorus this year, so I thought that I would drop by and share a drink with him instead."

Aziraphale sniffed. "You think that just because I'm not singing in the Chorus this year, I plan on spending all of Christmas Eve holed up in my shop feeling sorry for myself and not doing anything good or productive?!" He gulped his drink angrily, and then poured himself another helping. "I'll have you know, Crowley, I fully intend to be out doing good tonight. Miracles, divine inspiration, people being filled with the Holy Spirit, epiphanies, revelations, divine ecstasy, the whole works. And rich people will be inspired to donate mountains of toys to charities for poor children, and all over the city small children will be realizing that they love their parents and their families more than they love the toys that Santa brings, and--"

"Do you hear that?" Crowley asked, suddenly.

The angel paused, and cocked his head, listening. Then he answered gloomily, "Yes, I do."

"What?" Theo blinked, confused. "Hear what?"

"Angels, singing."

"It's the Heavenly Chorus. They've already started tonight's concert."

"You can hear that, in here?" Theo asked. He couldn't hear anything.

"Walls don't matter," Aziraphale answered, even more gloomily. He pushed his drink across the table, away from him, and stood up. "Well, no time to waste, then. I'm sorry that I've dallied so long with you, Crowley, but I appear to be behind schedule already. Theo, shall we go?"

"Go out?" Theo was pleased to hear that the idiot angel finally planned to have a productive night, for once; but, on the other hand, it was bitterly cold outside, and Theo knew about the angel's penchant for walking everywhere. Plus, he had just barely started to drink his cola. It would be a waste if it went flat.

"Wait a minute," said Crowley angrily, also standing up. "You can't just leave me here like this. I mean, what am I supposed to do to amuse myself tonight?! This city is crawling with angels, and with the Chorus overhead and all, I'll be lucky if I so much as step outside without getting struck by holy lightning--"

"That's quite perfect, actually," Aziraphale said cheerfully as he puttered around the back room, gathering up his coat and scarf and hat. "You can stay here and watch over Margie. She hates being left alone."

Crowley gaped at the angel. "I am NOT going to cat-sit for you!"

Margie meowed rather loudly. She apparently did not like the idea either.

"Well, Crowley, I do realize that this somewhat of an imposition on my part, to be asking you to do so. If you'd rather leave, then by all means, go ahead. You may leave. Although this," the angel said, pointing straight into the air, "is the only roof in town that will offer you any protection from being detected by the Chorus. That's something short of a thousand angels directly overhead, and most of them couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Joy and Love and the Christmas Spirit than by turning an errant demon into a pile of ashes. If I know the Chorus director at all - and I do - he won't interrupt his concert for anything except the chance to righteously smite a servant of the Adversary. So please, Crowley, by all means, do step outside. And farewell, old friend. It's been nice knowing you."

Crowley stood, still gaping at the angel in disbelief. He seemed at a complete loss for words.

"I take it you'll stay with Margie, then?" The angel finished tying his scarf around his neck and pulled Theo out of the back room, toward the front of the shop. "Cheerio!" he called over his shoulder. "We'll be back before sunup! There is a tremendously fun crossword puzzle in today's paper to entertain yourself with, and there's tofu in the fridge if you get the munchies."

Aziraphale opened the front door, and he and Theo stepped out into the cold night air.

The angel closed the door behind them, turned the key, and then paused, straightening out his hat and scarf. "And that," he said triumphantly, "is how we deal with a demon. It's important to keep them otherwise occupied during the major holy days."

"Ah," said Theo, and for once, he was actually impressed.

He then blinked for a moment, and stared. There was a beautiful, gleaming black, antique Bentley parked at the curb in front of the bookshop.

Theo stared at the car for a moment, then thought, Nah, it must belong to the neighbors... By then Aziraphale, who had hardly given the gorgeous, ancient car a second glance, had already started down the sidewalk. Theo scrambled to catch up.

As the two of them started walking away, Theo could just barely hear the sweet singing of an unseen angelic chorus, somewhere overhead.

True to what Aziraphale had said, they actually were out all night. The angel started with a list of wealthy men and women who he felt could be inspired to donate toys and goods to children's charities that night; he let Theo try his hand at a few of them, but Theo had a harder time being persuasive, and in the end, he ended up defaulting to the argument that such an act of goodwill would certainly look wonderful to the press in the highly publicized announcement of said deed come Christmas morning. Aziraphale seemed to disapprove of charity being used as a publicity stunt, but Theo couldn't see the difference if the poor kids ended up getting their toys just the same in the end.

Then they made a round at the hospitals around the city, filling in what Aziraphale called the "pre-requisite miraculous Christmas Eve healings." One of the patients that Theo touched ended up flatlining for almost a minute before Aziraphale wearily corrected Theo's math equations.

By the time that they were finished with the hospitals, they had missed most of the night's church services, but Aziraphale felt that they could still hop around the city sprinkling a bit of divine ecstasy here and there. This time, he wouldn't even let Theo try his hand at any of it. "Invoking the Holy Spirit is highly skilled work," the angel said severely when he ordered Theo to just hang back and watch. "If you're not careful, you could end up making some of these poor humans babble in tongues for days on end. That was all well and good in the old days, but nowadays they just get stuck in a straight jacket and bundled off to some asylum, the poor dears."

They visited a priest whose faith was wavering, a family torn apart by internal strife, and several others. They criss-crossed the city on foot, by bus as late as the busses would run, by cab even though Aziraphale thought it unfair that the cab drivers didn't have the night off, and by underground. The night was cold and the air chill, and overhead Theo could constantly hear, very faintly, the song of a Chorus of a thousand angels. Theo couldn't tell for sure what they were singing, but the melody didn't sound all that--

"It's not all that compelling," he finally said to Aziraphale, as the two of them walked along through the snowy sidewalks.

"Excuse me?"

"The Heavenly Chorus. I can't hear it very well, but it sounds like boring old church music. It's no wonder you told me that humans often don't hear them at all. This style is a bit out-dated, isn't it?"

Aziraphale gaped at him. Then he shook his head, seemed to recover himself, and said quite calmly, "Humans often don't hear the Chorus anymore because most humans don't believe in angels anymore. That's what I said before, Theo."

"But is that really true? I mean, it sounds like they're not even making an effort to get humans to hear them. If those angels want humans to believe in them and to listen to their Christmas choral concerts, well, they should probably make an effort to, you know, stay current. Connect with the human audience, and all that. Have you guys thought of trying 'Jingle Bells' or 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer'? People love those songs. I bet you could get a whole bunch of humans to hear you if you would just try singing something that they know and love to hear."

"But those songs are, er... secular, aren't they?"

"Well, sure, but it seems like a good idea to start with something secular, right? That way you could people of all sorts of different beliefs to start listening in when you angels sing. Then, you know, bust out the 'It Came Upon a Midnight Clear' and 'Silent Night' and all, and bam! You've got them hooked on Jesus."

"Oh, no," said Aziraphale sadly. "I know the director, and he doesn't like postmodern songs like 'Silent Night'."

"Postmodern?! It's well over a hundred and fifty years old!"

"Theo," Aziraphale said with a sigh. "You have a good idea. That really is a good idea. And now we shall never speak of it again."

"Why not?!"

"Because other angels don't think that way, and you can try to persuade them to take a different perspective on things, you can try for six thousand years, and it won't get you anywhere in the end." Aziraphale's eyes suddenly looked very, very sad. "And you're new at all this, and in a rather perilous position, without even your wings yet. Just please, don't try to bring this up with any other angels, all right? Trust me on this one, Theo. Sometimes it's safer not to try to rock the boat."

When morning dawned, they returned to the bookshop. The Chorus was gone, their concert finished for the year. The skies were clear and slowly changing from deepest black to palest blue. Theo had long ago lost all feeling in his fingers and toes. It was Christmas, he finally realized. And it would be his first Christmas spent away from his family. As Aziraphale turned his key and pushed the front door of the shop open, Theo suddenly found himself overwhelmed with a sudden, unexpected wave of grief.

Aziraphale was about to step inside when he paused, turned his head, and suddenly reached out and grasped Theo's hand in his. "Are you all right?"

Theo pulled his hand away quickly. Maybe a bit more quickly than he'd meant to, but he really couldn't help that now. " 'M fine," he mumbled.

"Glad to hear that somebody's fine and having a jolly good time," came Crowley's voice from within the dark bookshop. Theo and Aziraphale entered and saw him sitting unconcerned behind the main counter with the cash register on it, rifling casually through several open drawers behind the counter.

"Crowley," said Aziraphale testily, "Just because you're bored doesn't give you an excuse to rummage through my personal--"

"Just bored, you say? Just bored?! You practically held me prisoner inside this place! And anyways, you leave me alone all night in the house of my Enemy and then you expect me to NOT go snooping around?! Good grief, angel. I thought you knew me better than that."

"I do," said Aziraphale calmly as he walked over to Crowley and peered down at him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Are those burn marks on your fingertips?"

"You know perfectly well. You set traps around certain places, and certain objects, as if... as if... as if you had planned this whole thing out from the beginning, you bastard."

"Not from the Beginning, no. But I did have this all planned out since I received your postcard yesterday. Nice of you to send advance warning."

Crowley stood up, somewhat angrily. "Merry Christmas, angel. You too, brat. I haven't seen the bloody stupid cat all night, I think she's hiding upstairs in the kid's room. Move it, angel, can't you see I'm trying to leave?"

"I protected you," Aziraphale said somewhat icily, standing just so that he blocked Crowley from getting out from behind the counter. "I knew I had to find a way to keep you safe from being noticed by the Chorus, and I did. A 'thank you' is certainly called for, don't you think?"

"Fine. Thanks for trapping me here all night, when I could have been out having fun."

"And getting yourself incinerated."

Crowley sighed. "You know I hate cats."

"Cats specifically, or just furry things in general? Because I was never quite clear on that point."

Instead of answering that, Crowley looked over Aziraphale's shoulder and straight at Theo. "Hey, kid. Promise me you won't let this self-righteous prick get away with not getting you any Christmas presents, all right?"

Theo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the demon. "Did you get either of us Christmas presents?"

"No. It's my job to be mean and make people miserable."

"Some friend you are."

Crowley laughed and turned back to Aziraphale. "I like this kid. He's got some of his priorities straight. Angel, will you let me go now?"

"Fine." Aziraphale stood aside. "I must admit, however, that I still feel... miffed... about your ingratitude."

"Happy Hanukkah to you, too." Crowley pulled his leather jacket off the coat rack by the door where he had hung it, winced as his burnt fingers fiddled with the zipper, and then opened the front door. Just as he was about to step out, he paused and turned his head, again fixing his gaze (from behind his sunglasses) straight onto Theo. "One more thing, kid. If you ever feel that you want to try your hand at a real fun job, just give me a call, all right? The angel has my number; you can get it from him."

Crowley left, slamming the door shut behind him. A moment later, Theo heard the rumbling of a powerful engine, glanced out the front window, and saw the antique black car pulling away, the demon in the driver's seat.

He turned back to Aziraphale, who was muttering to himself and trying to straighten up the mess that Crowley had left behind the counter. "What did he mean by that last bit?" Theo asked.

"That was an invitation," Aziraphale said lightly. "From here on in he's probably going to be trying to convince you to Fall."

Theo was horrified. "Oh, no!"

"It's not very much of a problem, Theo. He's been trying that sales pitch on me for the past six thousand years, in a variety of ways."

"But doesn't it ever, like, get on your nerves? Or scare you?"

"Never." Aziraphale glanced up from behind the counter, a decidedly un-angelic gleam sparkling in his unsettlingly clear blue eyes. "Watching that demon fail again and again is half the fun."

Continued.