Christmas Day

The world awoke to find itself draped in a covering of white snow. The streets of London sparkled in the morning light and for once, no one seemed in a hurry to have it moved. Cars stood still and frozen, all muffled in white.

The vintage Bentley outside the bookshop was equally snowed in. It wasn't going anywhere for days.

The shade in one of the bookshop's doors was pulled up and Aziraphale peered out over the top of the large Christmas wreath. Everywhere he looked was a sparkling blanket of white. No ground was to be seen.

Aziraphale smiled, his breath fogging up the glass. Crowley had talked about going back to his flat and sleeping for the rest of the week. Aziraphale wished him to stay. They had never spent Christmas together before, Aziraphale wasn't even sure if Crowley had ever celebrated it. Now was the angel's chance. And judging by the snow on the Bentley, there was no way in Heaven or on Earth that Crowley was going anywhere soon. Unless he wanted to walk and the angel knew Crowley hated snow. Aziraphale was satisfied. He almost felt wicked for it.

"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas," he whispered to himself. He replaced the shade.

The inside of the bookshop looked just as festive as it had the night before. Aziraphale built up the fire in the grate. When it was blazing, he turned to the sleeping form on the sofa.

A black and red snake was slumbering under the tartan blanket, snoring softly with a hiss.

Aziraphale tapped the snake's nose gently. "Crowley."

The snake rolled over on its back and continued to snore, mouth open and forked tongue flicking out.

Aziraphale tried again. "Crowley, it's Christmas morning."

The snake mumbled in its sleep.

Aziraphale leaned down next to where Crowley's ear would be and shouted. "Crowley, it's time to get up!"

The snake's eyes snapped open and he bolted upright with a cry of "Ahhhh!" He looked around slightly in panic, his yellow eyes finally settling on Aziraphale.

The angel smiled at him.

The snake glared at him indignantly before turning into human form.

"Why did you have to shout?" Crowley groaned, stretching his long limbs out.

"I wasn't shouting," Aziraphale retorted. "I merely wanted to be sure you got up."

Crowley groaned again and swung his stockinged feet to the floor. He put his hands over his face. "How much mulled wine did we get away with last night?"

The angel picked two empty glasses off the coffee table. "Oh, I'd say the entire bottle's worth," he replied.

"No wonder my head aches."

Crowley picked his sunglasses from the floor and began pulling his snakeskin boots on. "Guess I should be off," he muttered, as he stood.

Aziraphale concealed a grin. "I don't think you'll be going far."

"Eh?"

"Look outside."

The demon darted out into the main part of the bookshop. Aziraphale counted to five. On the sixth second, he was rewarded.

"Ugh, it's standing over two feet deep!" came the disgusted cry.

Crowley slunk back looking dejected. "Blah, snow," he moaned.

Aziraphale took a record from its sleeve and fitted it on the phonograph turntable.

"Well then, my dear boy, it looks like you're spending Christmas with me."

"Ngk."

Instrumental Christmas music began to play. Aziraphale started to hum along, unable to keep his smile to himself. Crowley eyed him suspiciously with one yellow eye.

"You didn't arrange this little blizzard on purpose, did you, Aziraphale?"

"Absolutely not!"

Crowley raised his eyebrows.

Aziraphale held up his hand. "I swear by the Almighty and my angelic essence that I did not snow us in. It was entirely an act of nature."

"You aren't an angel anymore," Crowley said.

"Yes I am!"

"No, we were tried and convicted, remember? Hellfire and holy water. You're not an angel and I am no longer a demon."

Aziraphale stirred the fire, sending sparks up the chimney. "The Almighty did pardon me," he reminded Crowley, "And you as well." He emphasized this point with the fire iron.

Crowley watched the tip of it warily. He pushed it aside with a long forefinger. "You're right," he said. "I was wrong. I forgot. Been a demon for so long, it just slipped my mind."

Aziraphale put the fire iron away with a smug expression.

"No, I am not doing the dance," Crowley said with a growl.

"I didn't ask you to. Now, on to Christmas!" Aziraphale clapped his hands excitedly.

Crowley sighed and put away his glasses. There was no point in being grumpy. Aziraphale was far too excited. The former-demon might as well give in now while he had the chance and surrender before a struggle became necessary.

"What's next?"

Aziraphale disappeared, then came back with two folded pieces of cloth. He tossed one at Crowley. He caught it and held the item out. It was an apron, green and printed with cheery animals in Santa hats. He looked to Aziraphale for an explanation. The angel had already tied a red apron patterned with Christmas trees around his ample waist. Aziraphale clearly expected Crowley to do the same.

Crowley's cheeks reddened, but he put the apron on anyway.

Aziraphale beamed at him. "Time to start Christmas dinner! Can you bake?"

Crowley was rolling up his sleeves. "No, but I can cook."

True to his word, Crowley could indeed cook. He dealt with a ham, potatoes and sprouts while Aziraphale concentrated on the pudding, pies, cakes and other delights. The bookshop's little kitchenette handled the whole menagerie surprisingly well.

While the two worked, the phonograph played an assortment of traditional tunes.

Aziraphale mixed mixed up batter to 'Silent Night', 'O Come All Ye Faithful', and 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.'

Crowley made sausage and cranberry stuffing to 'O Holy Night', 'What Child is This', and 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel.'

"Shouldn't there be some form of punch?" Crowley asked when the ham had been studded with cloves and put in the oven to roast.

"Indeed!" Aziraphale produced a large glass bowl.

"Is there alcohol going in that?" Crowley looked at him hopefully.

"Two bottles worth," was the answer.

"S-s-sweet!" Crowley grinned, and hissed as he forgot himself.

"I thought you would approve," the angel said, knowingly.

Done with the major part of dinner, Crowley took off his apron and watched Aziraphale open the bottles of red wine.

"If my memory serves me right," said Crowley, "Christ wasn't actually born on Christmas Day, was He?"

"No," Aziraphale agreed.

"October, wasn't it?"

"So I believe, but the church decided on December 25."

"Which was a pagan holiday," Crowley drawled.

"Er, yes. The same is true for Easter. The name anyway."

"The church sure has screwed up everything," Crowley muttered.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale missed the punch bowl and poured some wine on the floor.

Crowley shrugged. "You know it's true, Azira. Humans are humans. Sin is still at work. The devil has done a damn good job of infiltrating. Not giving him credit, just saying it like it is."

"Which is why God chose to bring His own salvation," the angel said, cleaning up the spill.

"He saw that there was no one, He was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so His own arm achieved Salvation for Him, and His own righteousness sustained Him," Crowley quoted.

Aziraphale finished with the punch. The aprons went away. The pair made their way back to the sofa. The sweet smell of ham, sprouts and all manners of good things was wafting through the bookshop. Aziraphale brought up the subject of gifts.

"Shall we open them?"

"Don't see why not," Crowley replied, handing Aziraphale his yellow package. "You first, angel."

"Oh, well." Aziraphale blushed. He turned the package around slowly, tugging at the ribbons.

"It isn't going to explode," Crowley said with a hint of a smirk.

Off came the ribbons and paper. Aziraphale lifted the box lid and found inside one of his favourite things- a book.

"Oh, Crowley!"

"It's not a first edition, but it is rare. Not sure if you have it or not."

"No, I don't, thank you."

He opened the cover. "Oh, it even has illustrations!"

"Yeah, just don't expect them to be accurate."

Aziraphale didn't care about accuracy, though he did feel that the angel on the title page was lacking. He smiled. "Thank you, Crowley."

Crowley smiled and worked on his own gift. He didn't take as long to open it because he tore the paper. When he got down to the box and peeled off the lid, he had to laugh.

"You're kidding," he said, taking out the tape.

"Well, I concluded the Bentley wouldn't turn this one into 'The Best of Queen'," Aziraphale said.

Crowley snorted. "Thanks, angel."

"You're quite welcome."

Crowley turned the tape over and read the back. Aziraphale watched him.

"Crowley, why did you call me 'Azira' earlier? You never have before."

Crowley looked up. "Figured why not."

"You wrote it on the gift tag as well." The angel held up the wrapping.

"You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that. Hmm, Azira," the angel repeated. "It's short. I like it. I'll get used to it."

Crowley smiled. The beeping of a kitchen timer caused him to hop up. "Time to check on that ham."

The ham was cooked, the sprouts ready and dinner was about to begin. The table was laid out, the punch hot and there was more silverware than Crowley believed to be necessary.

"Don't you think this is way too much food for the two of us?" Crowley asked when he and Aziraphale were seated.

"Leftovers are a wonderful thing," Aziraphale said, shaking out a red and gold napkin. "They keep well in the refrigerator."

"You don't have a refrigerator," Crowley pointed out.

"Then you can take them with you," Aziraphale suggested. "When you dig your car out."

"Which you know won't be for a long time," the once-demon retorted.

Aziraphale only smiled.

Once the meal was over and the pudding had, the sofa once again became the place the two went. Crowley somehow managed to connect Aziraphale's ancient computer to the internet and got a holiday channel to work. The computer was lugged from the back room and put on the coffee table. A brief snowy screen and 'It's a Wonderful Life' played across it.

"Excellent choice," Aziraphale concurred.

"I didn't do it," Crowley said. "But, you know, I've been thinking. If I hadn't become a demon, we never would have met."

"I'm sure we would have," Aziraphale protested.

"Nah. Our spheres were too far apart."

"I suppose we wouldn't have been able to prevent Armageddon, either," Aziraphale said, thoughtfully.

"Suppose not."

"Perhaps…" Aziraphale paused over the film's opening music. "Perhaps, He planned it this way. You know, ineffability and all that."

"He could. He can do anything He wants to. I propose a toast." Crowley held up his glass of punch.

Aziraphale did the same.

"Here's to God's Great Plans," Crowley declared. "May we ever be in awe and never understanding."

Aziraphale smiled. "Amen."

Glasses clinked and they settled in for a good few hours by the flickering of the firelight.

Night had again fallen, the air outside was cold and crisp. It looked to be another silent night. The sky was alive with stars, and among them one shone very brightly, a subtle reminder of the miracle of one silent night so many centuries ago.

Merry Christmas, Peace on earth and Goodwill towards men.

The End