The Proposal
"Sure Hellspawn, I'll let you know how it goes. 'Bye Dear." Crowley put his phone away as Aziraphale walked into the far aisle of the bookshop.
"How what goes?" Crowley jumped at Aziraphale's voice.
"Nothing. Uhm, our boy was just letting me know he made it to the States. Are you ready?" Crowley was obviously hiding something.
"Ready? Oh yes, tea and a walk, you said? It's a little hot, I thought we'd stay here instead. I just got rid of the last customer and hung the 'closed' sign." Aziraphale eyed Crowley for a reaction to changing his plans.
Pursing his lips and eyes spinning beneath his shades, Crowley was scrambling for a plan B. Exhaling loudly, he came to a decision. "Very well Angel, you start the tea, I'll pick the music."
"No Bebop! What would you like to nibble on with your tea?" Aziraphale paused at the kitchen door.
"You…. you know I have no preference but keep it light. We may decide to go to the Ritz later." Crowley stammered; afraid he had given something away.
"Very good." Aziraphale went into the kitchen and started the kettle. A light sponge cake with strawberries and cream sat on the tray next to the cups. Music drifted into the room as he poured the water into the pot. "Hmmm…Rachmaninoff. Not his style, but definitely Not Bebop. I wonder what he's up to." Aziraphale picked up the tray and stepped out of the kitchen. "Here we are…" he stopped mid-sentence.
The room was dark, except for the twinkling of a thousand or so fairly lights, and the battery-powered candles on the table. Crowley walked over and took the tray. "Let me take this." He set it on the table. Taking Aziraphale's hands, Crowley led him to the middle of the room. The piano music grew softer. Crowley began, "Angel…."
"I will!" Aziraphale jumped in.
"I will do the talking this time!" Crowley growled, then softened his voice and removed his glasses. "Please Angel, let me get this out."
"Mm-hm." Aziraphale kept his mouth shut and nodded enthusiastically.
"I know we have the rest of time to declare our feelings to each other over and over and over again, and I intend to, but our human friends have a limited time span. They helped bring this about. Without casting a pall on our joy, maybe we should do something for them, especially our boy. Something Human, something Earthly. So… Aziraphale…my love..." Crowley took a slow breath, looking his Angel in the eyes. "Will you marry me?"
"Mm-hm!" Aziraphale kept his mouth shut and nodded vigorously.
Crowley laughed, "You can speak now, Angel."
"Yes! Yes! A thousand times Yes!" Aziraphale drew Crowley into a tight hug, while simultaneously trying to bounce happily.
"Quoting Miss Austen? Predictable." Crowley hmphfed, then gasped. "I forgot the ring! I'm sorry Angel."
"No ring is necessary, we'll do wedding bands later, my Dear." Aziraphale released Crowley from the hug, immediately pulling him in for a sweet kiss.
"I have an option, or rather, Brim does." Crowley returned the kiss, and Aziraphale felt a strange sensation move from his lips, down his arm to his ring finger. He looked down and saw Crowley's snake, Brimstone, wrapped around his finger. While he looked like a tattoo, Brim was actually Crowley's demonic equivalent of a 'familiar' – a sentient being who fed off Crowley's emotions. "What do you think? Although, I don't want Brim getting drunk off your constant euphoria."
Aziraphale looked down and petted the snake. "For a little while, just to feel our new status. I couldn't possibly keep him from you for the whole engagement." He held his hand up and addressed Brim directly. "Is that satisfactory?" The snake raised his head and nodded. "Thank you, Brim." He lightly put his lips to the snake, then reached up to stroke Crowley's face where the snake usually lay. "How does it feel?"
"Different. New. I guess like your finger would feel with a ring on it for the first time." Crowley looked around and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. This feels 'new'. It should feel 'new'." He leaned toward his Angel. "You said 'Yes'", giving him a more passionate kiss before stepping back.
"You thought I wouldn't?" Aziraphale sat on the sofa.
"I was afraid you were afraid." Crowley sat beside him.
Aziraphale turned to face Crowley, who mirrored the motion. "My dear Crowley, my Love." He cupped Crowley's cheek with one hand. "I denied it and hurt you so many times. I will never be able to make up for that, but I promise..." He took a calming breath. "Nothing will ever keep me from saying that I love you ever again. Were we facing destruction, I would make sure the last thing you know is how much I love you. You do know, don't you?"
"I'm beginning to get the idea." Crowley smiled, took Aziraphale's hand and pulled it down to hold between them on the sofa. "An inkling, a hint."
"Wicked thing!" Aziraphale playfully slapped Crowley's hand and reached for the tea. "You know I do. And now we'll be bound by contract. I know contracts are a big deal Downstairs."
"If I remember correctly, Upstairs likes things nailed down, oops, spelled out as well." Crowley cringed at his unintentional pun. "And you, know as well, don't you?"
"Every day, my love. Every moment. Angels feel it directly, you remember. I'll just have to be constant in my reciprocation." Aziraphale handed Crowley a cup of tea and offered him the cake.
Crowley plucked a single strawberry from the arrangement. "Warlock will be back in late summer. How does September sound?" He popped it into his mouth and leaned back.
"Perfect. Where? Our band shell may be a little too public. Here is too cramped. Churches are out, obviously. Most of our humans are in Tadfield; there should be several appropriate gardens there. What is your opinion?" Aziraphale was finally calming down and enjoying the moment by planning.
"I'd like a garden….seems complete somehow." Crowley smiled. The music changed to Chopin nocturnes. "We can plan later, let's savor the moment." He put one arm across the back of the sofa, Aziraphale leaned into him. Crowley reached out and stroked one white curl between his thumb and forefinger. "Over and over and over again."
"Always, my love." Aziraphale stroked the small snake on his ring finger. Brim dozed, half-drunk in a high of emotions.