"I have something to say, angel." Crowley took Aziraphale's hands. It was a beautiful spring evening in 2026, and they were sitting on their bench in Berkeley Square. "Something very important that I've been wanting to say for a long time."
"And I want to hear," Aziraphale said. He knew what was about to happen. They'd discussed it. And they only came to Berkeley Square for the most important of occasions. His heart began to beat faster with excitement. Privately, he was a little surprised - and disappointed - that Crowley hadn't taken off his sunglasses. But he certainly wasn't going to say anything critical. "I'm listening, my dear."
"All right, then." Crowley smiled and moved in until their faces were almost close enough to kiss. "Believe me, my dear Aziraphale, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections."
Aziraphale blinked. "What?"
"But you can hardly doubt the object of my discourse. However your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble, my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken."
Aziraphale's mouth opened and closed several times before he could get a sound out. "Crowley-" he croaked at last.
"-Almost as soon as I met you, I singled you out as the companion of my future life."
"Crowley, my dear, dear Crowley - I... I think there's been some kind of-"
"-But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying."
"Crowley, are you... are you proposing to me like this? With..."
Crowley's grin was diabolical. "Don't you want me to propose to you?"
"Of course I do, you know I do, but... Crowley, that proposal, it's... it's..."
"...What's wrong with it? I thought it was a great proposal. It's logical, rational. He enumerates his reasons for marrying in an orderly fashion. It's all tremendously sensible."
"But Crowley, it's... it's Mr. Collins!" Aziraphale was distraught.
"Yeah! What's the problem?" Crowley said, smiling. "Collins is a great guy!"
"What do you mean?"
"He's dependable, reliable, respectable. In fact, I'd say he's the real hero of the story." Crowley barely managed to say it with a straight face.
"What?!" Aziraphale squealed.
"He offered to save Lizzie and her family from poverty."
"I hardly think th- Wait!" Aziraphale was staring at him. "Crowley, you read Pride and Prejudice? For me?"
"Of course I did, angel."
"But you don't read."
"I do every now and then. It's just fun to say that to wind you up."
"Oh, Crowley..." Aziraphale stared at him. At last, he sat up taller, bravely straightened his waistcoat, and swallowed. "You've obviously given this a great deal of thought. Your views on the characters in the story may not, ah, coincide with my own... at all... but nevertheless I can see you've selected this text with great care, and if you truly think this proposal is the best one, then I'm sure you have a good reason for it. I wouldn't wish you to think I don't have faith in your judgment. Crowley, my dear, please go on. I want to hear."
Crowley suddenly doubled over, shaking.
Aziraphale blanched. "Crowley- I'm sorry! I should never have interrupted. Please forgive me! I'm sorry I've upset you..."
Crowley looked up, and Aziraphale saw, to his astonishment, that he was laughing. "It's just fun winding you up in general!"
"What?" Aziraphale said.
"Your face! I wish I had a camera!" Crowley leapt to his feet and began pacing, flushed with triumph that his scheme had gone off so flawlessly. "Your bloody adorable little face, angel! This was better than I dared hope! You were trying so hard to be sweet and understanding about it and give it a chance even though you were obviously coming apart inside - you looked like you were about to discorporate... Oh-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! It's too good! I thought you were going to be furious, but this was sooo much better!"
"I am furious! Of all the disgraceful things to do! You- you scoundrel!"
"-Aw, come on!" Crowley guffawed. "You have to admit this was pretty good!"
"I do not!"
"Collins, angel! Did you really think I would propose with- ha! ha! ha!- Mr. Collins' speech? That creep! I oughta be offended!"
"You cad!"
Crowley, no longer able to give full vent to his mirth in a standing position, sank to the ground and began gleefully kicking his feet. "That's meeee- he! he! he! he!"
"I suppose you think this is funny!"
"Yeah!" Crowley crowed. "I thought we'd established that! Obviously I do, because it was bloody - ah, ha, ha, ha! - bloody hilarious! Hooooo boy, memorizing that stupid speech was so worth it! God, I- he!- he! -he! - I haven't laughed that hard since that time in Thessaloniki with the octopus!"
"How could you?" Aziraphale practically wailed. "How could you do such a thing?"
"-Ah, c'mon, angel." Crowley sniffed back mirthful tears and emitted a last giggle. "You'll think this is funny in a year or two."
"I will think nothing of the sort!" Aziraphale leapt up, stamping his foot on the ground. "I can't believe you would... would..."
Crowley stared at him, realizing with alarm that his beloved was truly upset. He leapt to his feet and frantically seized Aziraphale's hands. "Angel. Don't." Time to put into action the next phase of the plan, he resolved, and he took off his sunglasses. "Angel, listen to me. I just have one thing to say."
"Why should I listen to-"
"-You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope."
Aziraphale gasped. "Wait, that's from...! Crowley!"
"Yeah?"
"Crowley, you... you read Persuasion, too?"
"Of course I did."
"Why, I believe that's the loveliest thing I've-"
"-Now be quiet, angel. I need to get through my speech. My real speech." Crowley got on one knee. A group of tourists on the other end of the square gasped excitedly and began taking pictures. He ignored them. "Tell me not that I am too late," he quoted. "That such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, three years ago." He was definitely not blinking back tears.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, was weeping unashamedly. "Oh, Crowley, my dearest."
"Dare not say that a demon forgets sooner than an angel. That his love has an earlier death." Crowley abandoned any remaining effort to hide his emotions. "Unjust I may have been, resentful I have been, but never inconstant."
They were both in tears now.
Crowley's voice was barely equal to the strain of continuing.
"I have loved none but you," Aziraphale joined in, and they went on together, haltingly, carrying one another forward. "For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? Too good, too excellent creature!"
Aziraphale pulled Crowley to his feet and put his arms round his waist.
Crowley laid a gentle finger to his trembling lips and went on alone. "Believe there is true attachment, true constancy, most fervent and undeviating, in me, Anthony J. Cr-"
Aziraphale stopped him in turn, this time with a tearstained, joyful kiss.
In the background, for the first time in seven years, a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. No one heard it over the cheers and applause. But it was there, right enough.
I have no idea what happened in Thessaloniki with the octopus. Aziraphale refused to tell me. But Crowley was willing to share that it involved him mistakenly assuming an octopus was dead and then bitterly regretting it. From there we'll just have to speculate. It must be a doozy if Azi's still embarrassed about it a thousand years later.