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Of course it was rather simple for Aziraphale to fool Beelzebub and the rest of hell with his and Crowley’s little body switcheroo. Being demons in a basement with the hubris to rely on their collective evil to keep out intruders, they had nothing along the lines of a security system. Why would they need one? What angel in their right minds would want to wander down there? It’s only happened a handful of times, but they’d mostly been defectors, so they didn’t feel they were in too much danger. Heaven, on the other hand, is run like a high rise, with the celestial equivalent of full body scanners and armed guards at the doorway to each floor. It was Crowley who was in actual danger of discovery. A system would be set up to detect the presence of a demon. There was already one there - the associate sent up from hell to start the fire, but with how stringent Gabriel is with minding his p’s and q’s, the presence of a second demon wouldn’t be that difficult to detect. Except that Crowley isn’t demon borne. He’s demon cast. A fallen angel. Which means he has enough angel left in him that, along with the presence of another demon, he was able to avoid detection.

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Gabriel and co. know they’ve been bamboozled for two reasons. First of all, they figured the two of them would do something like this. It was just a little too predictable. Second, Crowley being a fallen angel was a bit more difficult to detect in heaven. But Michael, surrounded by demon stink, could smell the angelic in Aziraphale a mile away. It’s not that Aziraphale is such an amazing angel that Gabriel can’t risk losing him. It’s simply that he doesn’t like losing. He’s angry at Crowley and Aziraphale for skirting the rules, but the one he wants to get back at a little bit more is Aziraphale. So while the angel is playing downstairs in his bathtub of holy water, he has a prime opportunity to do away with Crowley, thus securing his hold over his disobedient angel, and reignite the war with hell using Earth as their battleground. And if it gets destroyed in the process, so be it. Collateral damage.

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Aziraphale has a mark on his face (reminiscent of a Celtic knot) like Crowley does, right beside his ear, only it's white, almost the exact same color as Aziraphale's skin, so it's not very easy to see. In fact, the first time Crowley does see it is on the day he asks Aziraphale to marry him. Aziraphale blushes such a deep dark red, it shines like a beacon. The second time Crowley sees it is on their wedding night. That's when he also learns that Aziraphale enjoys having it kissed.`

 

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Crowley rarely sleeps. When he does, he usually passes out in his throne in whatever he's wearing. Aziraphale sleeps in two piece satin pajamas no matter what. When Crowley sleeps with Aziraphale, he sleeps shirtless in black sleep pants. He'd rather sleep naked with his angel, but the pants make Aziraphale more comfortable.

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Aziraphale has a Tumblr with beautifully curated side blogs dedicated respectively to books, food, music, and more food.

His main blog is strictly NSFW.

Crowley only has a main blog. It’s cars, wine, and plants.

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Crowley attempts colored contacts so he and Aziraphale can go out on the town without him in glasses but his demon body annihilates them.

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Crowley teaches Aziraphale to drive his Bentley because of course he does...

It doesn’t just show how much he loves his angel, how much trust and faith he has in him … but he thinks it’ll also be funny as hell. Their first time out, Aziraphale pads up, helmet and all, as if he’s about to play football. They go to a vacant lot. Crowley sets up cones. They go 5 mph with the blinkers on. They do this for days. The first time Aziraphale ‘accidentally’ goes over 20 (though he might have a little demonic assistance with that, it opens his eyes. He understands the appeal. After that, the pads come off. Most times, he follows the rules of the road, but there are some days (okay, quite a few) where he opens the Bentley up, sees what she can do. He’s been known to beat out Crowley’s 90 and go 120 (I know that a 1933 Bentley - used in the show - can’t go 120, but it can’t go 90 either, so just work with me here XD) but because he actually cares about not hurting or scaring anyone, he never comes within 10 feet of a single other car or pedestrian. 

They’ve been to the German Autobahn.

And even though Aziraphale loves his husband’s taste in music, when he decides to be the speed demon … uh, angel … he drives to Night on Bald Mountain.

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When Aziraphale starts becoming a thorn in Gabriel's side, Gabriel finds him and meets with him one on one because he feels his overall authority will be effective in intimidating him. And it does ... for about a week. When that stops working, the form letters come - lengthy, in depth, with Gabriel's over-the-top seal affixing the envelope shut on each and every one. When that doesn't work and the frivolous miracles not only continue but increase, Gabriel says "F**k it!" and starts sending the equivalent of celestial Post It notes. Aziraphale is grateful that he's basically left be, but the notes still give him anxiety, and he can't bring himself to get rid of them, so they clutter up a single drawer in his desk that's getting harder and harder by the day to close. That's how Crowley finds them. And when he does, he's pissssssed.

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Crowley was an angel once, and thus has a true angelic form. But now, he's a demon. His human form is the one he chooses, the one he appreciates the most, but his true demon form is the stuff of nightmares - rotting flesh and maggots. He tries not to change too often, either to his demon form in hell or as a snake on Earth, because he fears he'll forget how to change back. One night, he changes for a moment, and he does forget. Aziraphale finds him, offers to help him. But Crowley doesn't want to be miracled back. He wants to remember who he is. Who he chooses to be. And Aziraphale does that ... by wrapping him up in his arms and wings, kissing him softly on the forehead, until he remembers.

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At the pub, after the fire in the bookshop, Crowley, devestated beyond belief thinking he's been condemned to an eternity without his best friend, starts a list of reasons not to turn so completely evil he becomes like Hastur, or not to go to the first church he can find and drink a whole dish of holy water (aside from the fact that most church holy water is tap and won't do much to him anyway). What was so great about Earth that he hadn't done either of those things yet? Why exist at all when the Almighty, in all Her knowledge and grace, had banished him from Paradise? As he gets more and more drunk, his handwriting gets progressively less legible, but that doesn't matter. There's only one thing on the list anyhow.

Aziraphale.

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Now that Crowley and Aziraphale have gotten heaven and hell off their backs, they don't really get much in the way of assignments, if at all. That doesn't bother Aziraphale too much because there's always good to do on Earth:volunteering at soup kitchens, cleaning trash off beaches, leading Girl Guide troops (P.S. I NEED to write a fic about Aziraphale the Girl Guide troop leader XD). For Crowley, it's a little more tricky. He never really delighted in doing true evil anyway. He was more of a prankster at heart. So now, that's the kind of "evil" he does (because he's still a demon, and demons have urges ...) So he'll short sheet beds at hotels, make parking meters run out sooner than expected, mess with traffic lights, make milk go bad, add new forms to tax returns, turn an entire bag of Skittles green, etc. Just basically mess with people's days. Little does he know that actually makes him a BETTER demon than he was before because humans, on average, are more devastated by small daily annoyances than large disasters. After all, the devil is in the details

 

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Aziraphale never questioned why Crowley dresses in head to toe black, complete with long sleeves and pants down to his ankles. He always assumed it was a demon thing. He's not particularly fond of short sleeves or short pants, either, so it's not too odd. But the truth is Crowley refuses to take his clothes off in front of Aziraphale because written on his skin are the names of every person he’s ever caused the damnation of, along with how it was done. It’s part of how hell, in their primitive way, does their record keeping. Crowley had never thought to be ashamed of it … until the first time it becomes an issue.

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Crowley had no problem taking credit for all the notorious deeds he did. He rather enjoyed the notoriety. But during the long stretches of time when he didn’t see Aziraphale, he missed him like the Dickens. So he would do ridiculously bad deeds in his name, fantasizing about the day Aziraphale would find out. To this date, legend tells of a robber baron in the Old West named A. Z. Fell who terrorized cattle herders, not only by stealing their cattle, but by painting rainbow polka dots on sheep. Likewise, Aziraphale did good deeds in Crowley’s name. It was an incredible long con since neither angel or demon found out about these deeds until the 1990s. Aziraphale read of his own nefarious crimes in an ancient history textbook. Crowley found out that an entire burn unit is named after him in the London Bridge Hospital.

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Aziraphale and Crowley are more middles than anything when it comes to sex for a number of reasons. Penetrative sex isn't always their thing. In fact, it's rarely their thing. They prefer to touch, to hug, to kiss, to look in one another's eyes and communicate in that softly spoken and sometimes wordless way that makes it seem like no one else in the world, on heaven or in hell can ever hear them. It also makes Aziraphale less self-conscious not having Crowley look up or down at him. His belly, which Crowley loves, isn't an issue when he's lying on his side, facing his lover. The romantic in Aziraphale loves the intimacy, and Crowley - being that close to his angel helps remind him that this moment is real.

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Now that they're together, when Aziraphale and Crowley go out to eat and Aziraphale orders deviled eggs or Crowley orders angel food cake, it's definitely code.

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Aziraphale and Crowley both appreciate a good whiskey. Being a demon, with magical abilities unknown to mortals, Crowley gets his whiskey from the angel's share. Meanwhile, Aziraphale prefers the devil's cut.

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(a la Doctor Who)

When they're visiting friends or in otherwise polite company, Aziraphale carries index cards with dialogue written on them so that Crowley can display the correct emotional response in any situation as opposed to his usual habit of standing in a corner and smirking.

 

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Aziraphale and Crowley don’t need to have penetrative sex. In fact, they don’t mostly have it. As a demon and an angel, it’s unnecessary, and not even the best way to obtain pleasure. And besides, the greater goal is connection. Crowley’s powers work off imagination, and using them, he can conjure up a great many scenarios, and Aziraphale’s soul responds to them.

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Aziraphale and Crowley don’t throw a theme wedding, per se, but it has nods to everything their life has been together. They rent out the Globe Theater (with a little magical assistance) for their reception. It’s catered by a chef who once worked at the Ritz. Invitations come to their guests in the form of prophecies. They wear Victorian suits instead of tuxedos. They serve fireballs and hard cider (sparkling cider for the kids). And since there are kids, they hire a herpetologist and a magician to entertain. The cake has nine levels, and is alternating angel’s food and devil’s food, except for the top tier which is made out of crepes. The topper is an angel and a demon standing beside a burning black Bentley. The groom’s cake looks like Satan, and is served beside a chalice filled with a clear sugar glaze they label Holy Water.

When they’re guests leave, they’re given a gold pen in the form of a serpent and a book - an empty journal so they can write their own ineffable story.

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During their wedding, Crowley becomes so overwhelmed by his love for his husband, without even meaning to, he stops time so they can dance a little longer.

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I see a lot of people saying they want to see Crowley as a lawyer. I want to see him in social services making a lot of sick m-effers mysteriously disappear. And Aziraphale knows this and just dispels rumors because he's his husband's alibi. "Did I hear that nasty child abuser got mysteriously turned inside out? Tragic. Sounds like those awful Satan worshippers to me. My husband wouldn't know anything about that. We were in bookclub all night long. No, that is not code, Karen! Keep your mind out of the gutter."

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Crowley and Aziraphale are huggers. Just ... constant and all the time. They've spent so much of their existence standing close to one another that, now that they have permission to, they hug, even if it's only by half - one arm around the other's waist pulling close. In fact, it's widely understood by Anathema and Newt, when they stop by for tea, that if Aziraphale and Crowley start hugging, they might as well find something else to do for about an hour since angel and demon will forget all about them in an instant.

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In an attempt to encourage literacy amongst the youth in Soho (not necessarily book sales, though) Aziraphale throws a character-themed Halloween party at his shop every year. He usually dresses as a character from classic literature but one year he gets inspired to dress as the vampire Aro from the Twilight Saga, red contacts and all (though he's not particularly fond of the straight black hair). Crowley questions his husband's choice of novel (he personally wouldn't lump Twilight in with literature) but the red contacts have an interesting effect on Crowley. At the end of the night, after they've closed up shop and retreat to the back room for some alone time, Crowley asks Aziraphale to keep them on just a little bit longer ...

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Crowley isn't the greatest at conveying his emotions. Sure, when he's angry, he can yell with the best of them, and his sarcasm game is definitely on point. But everything else falls a little short - unless he's drunk, then anything goes. But when he's feeling distant from his angel, when they've had a fight, or he's stuck inside his own head, he'll miracle a small rain storm. It's a non-verbal cue to Aziraphale to stop what he's doing and shelter his demon - with his coat, with a blanket, in his arms, or his wings if they're at home away from curious eyes and he's so inclined. It's Crowley's 'safe sign'.

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Sunday is a day of rest in the Crowley Fell household. Since Crowley decided to let his hair grow out again, Aziraphale learned how to care for it properly. He'll give his demon a scalp massage, card Argan oil through his tresses, and then set it in a French braid. Crowley reciprocates by giving his angel a manicure, using coconut oil to massage his hands and citrus oil on his cuticles, so that when he's done, his hands smell like a coconut cream pie.

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Crowley has taken to showing up a few minutes late to his dates with Aziraphale so he can pretend to 'pick him up' at the bar. And even though Aziraphale thinks it's ridiculous, he plays along. Except Crowley can be such a dramatic bitch that often times very kind, protective bears come over to ask Aziraphale if this man is bothering him. To which Aziraphale smiles kindly and says, "Of course he is. He's my husband."

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Crowley and Aziraphale can both be anxious, fidgety supernatural entities, so when Aziraphale discovered fidget spinners (one left behind in his shop after a mother and five-year-old boy left in a hurry) he was elated. He immediately got one for Crowley, who scoffed initially, but kept it because - Aziraphale. Now they both have a drawer full of them - part collection and part necessity, since Aziraphale uses his so frequently they tend to fall apart, and Crowley uses his so violently they tend to light on fire.

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I am totally down with the idea that at some point during the 30s or 40s, for no discernible reason and out of sheer boredom, Aziraphale and Crowley start randomly running some kind of film noir type detective agency, with Aziraphale as the detective and Crowley as his gal Friday. Like, people just start coming to Aziraphale's bookshop as a way to escape their problems. They'd pour their hearts out to him, and he'd help them, but in the campiest, Bogart-esque way possible, and Crowley was like - just there to cause mischief? But came along to 'help' and tempt husbands into spilling their dastardly secrets (because, you know, the husband was always the one 'who dunnit'), but the romantic tension between Crowley and Aziraphale was way too strong. Then one day, they were like - yup, done with this now. Moving on ... and that's the last they ever talked about it.

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Post-apocanope - Crowley has a tattoo of angel wings that he gave himself. It takes up a good portion of the inside of his wrist. Aziraphale has yet to see it because it's underneath that giant watch he wears.

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Addendum to the previous head canon:

 

Aziraphale ends up seeing Crowley's tattoo, and asks for one of his own. Crowley doesn't want to, because essentially he'd be using his demon power to burn him, but Aziraphale doesn't see the harm. As it is, his angelic power will probably counteract it and it won't last long anyway. Crowley gives in eventually and asks Aziraphale what he wants. Aziraphale says he wants something that represents Crowley, maybe demon wings, or Crowley's name. Crowley opts for the name, but to make it private, he puts his sigil instead. And that's when things start going downhill ...

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Not all of Crowley's houseplants appreciate Aziraphale's new technique of loving kindness. One devil's vine in particular and its mate, an abnormally large pitcher plant, used to thrive under Crowley's diet of angry rants and humiliation. Starving for negative attention, they try to raise Aziraphale's ire. Their favorite way by far is for the devil's vine to steal the neighbors' cats and feed them to the pitcher plant, forcing Aziraphale to hunt down the pathetic mewing before it's too late. Crowley pretends to be concerned, when, in reality, he's more proud.

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Aziraphale can miracle himself into any outfit he chooses. But when he starts spending the night at Crowley’s flat, Crowley miracles his own clothes in his closet and drawers so that they’ll fit Aziraphale if he needs something to wear. He told the angel as such. Aziraphale did have a go at trying on every outfit Crowley owns (and pretending to be Crowley in the bathroom mirror, but only when he thought the demon wasn’t looking … which he was), but so far, he’s only really borrowed a t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants (in place of his own two-piece pajama set - to humor the dear boy, of course, seeing as he went through so much trouble), neither of which Crowley can recall buying since they’re so basic. 

But to Crowley, those clothes are sacred now.

He even wears them himself sometimes when he’s alone and misses his angel.

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Aziraphale personally blessed the water he gave Crowley in the thermos, and even though it all turned out alright in the end, he's never forgiven himself for it.

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Crowley is determined that Aziraphale must have an animal form, if only by virtue of the fact that he's a supernatural entity. All he has to do is figure it out and shape shift. Aziraphale, on the other hand, doesn't think so. Crowley has mentioned before that he not only can become a snake, but that he feels a connection to snakes. Aziraphale has never felt a connection to any animal on the planet. And he's tried. Traveling on the ark, walking through the park, visiting the zoo, sitting in the garden. Nothing. He has an appreciation for eagles and lions, but he writes it off an no more than that. Once he decide to just be a cat, but that didn't go very well. He wasn't particular good at cat things, and the other cats didn't like him. It's not until one warm summer evening, when he and Crowley are enjoying an intimate moment alone in his bookshop, and they are overwhelmed by a demon horde come to take Crowley away that Aziraphale, backed into a corner and without his flaming sword, discovers his animal form when he spontaneously turns into a griffin.

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During one of their first real fights as a couple, Aziraphale calls Crowley ‘demon’, mocking the way Crowley calls him ‘angel’, in an effort to get him hot under the collar and shut him down. It manages to do both, but not exactly the way Aziraphale anticipates.
'Demon' becomes Aziraphale’s secret pet name for Crowley from then on.

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For GO, 40 and 99

Almost kiss and magical accidents

We all know that Crowley makes it a habit of saving Aziraphale from his own short-sightedness. However, on one occasion, the script gets flipped and Aziraphale has to run to Crowley’s rescue. (No, not the Thermos in the Bentley.) This time, Crowley is walking into yet another trap of his own making, but this time, the perpetrators are demon hunters (Americans – a Dean something {completely confused}, a Magnus someone, and some annoying blond bird what goes by the name of Buffy. Like how is that even a name? Is that her God-given name? How did a priest baptize her with that name and it was okay with him? But I digress …) So there Crowley is, wrapped in some kind of magical twine, strapped to a pike while the three demon hunters argue over who actually did the capturing, who gets to take him with them, until they’re tried everything from a three-way battle to rock, paper, scissors. In the meantime, Aziraphale sneaks in and tries to magical the twine free, lecturing Crowley on how he told him this was a trap, why is it he never listens to him, and how he was happily on his way to lunch but now he has to rescue him, all to disguise the fact that he’s worried.

He’s worried because whatever spell has been cast on this twine – this stupid, thin as all get out, I should be able to set this on fire with a match twine – is positively defying his attempt to severe it and wouldn’t you know it, but the Archangels aren’t answering any of his calls. Suddenly, Aziraphale realizes it’s gone quiet, the three hunters behind him no longer squabbling over whose rock destroyed whose scissors. He turns around and there they are, standing over him. Aziraphale smiles, says, “Hello,” and tries to explain, but some other red-haired witch that Buffy (Buffy? Really?) brought with her casts a spell. Thinking this is the absolute end, that there’s no way out for either of them, Aziraphale lunges at Crowley, going in for a kiss – one kiss. That’s all he wants. That’s all he needs before he’s blown to pieces or turned into a marmoset or doused in Hellfire (because this looks like the kind of lot that might be able to conjure some in a jiffy). But Crowley turns his head at the last minute. Aziraphale’s kiss lands, but on Crowley’s cheek. A bright light surrounds them, and Aziraphale knows now this is the end. But moments later they find themselves in his bookshop. He realizes that bright light was him, transporting them to safety. But whatever spell the witch cast still did its trick.

Crowley is still wrapped in the twine, and Aziraphale is stuck by his lips to Crowley’s cheek.

They both try over and over to reverse the spells – both demon magic and holy magic, but nothing works. As they search Aziraphale’s books, trying to find an answer, calling in Anathema and Newt, even Madame Tracy and Adam when they really get desperate, they blather unendingly, throwing out blame and accusations.

“You’re so damned stupid, Crowley! Why in the world did you think …?”

“I’m stupid? Who’s the one permanently glued to my face!?”

“I thought that was the end, you imbecile. I was trying to …”

“Eat me!? Did you think that was the solution to all this?”

“No! I was trying to kiss you, you troglodyte!”

“And why would you do something like that at a time like that?”

“Because I love you!”

“You … what?”

“I love you. I thought that was the end, of me, at least, and I would have never told you. So I thought …”

“You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still love me?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

“Do you want to … you know … be with me?”

“At the moment I don’t think I have any choice in the matter. But yes, I do.”

And that’s when they realize they’ve broken free of the kiss. That was the key. Talking out their feelings. Telling each other the truth.

Eventually Anathema finds he way around the twine.

Aziraphale and Crowley find the demon hunters and send them to Alpha Centurai.

And when they get back to the bookshop, everything back in order, Crowley gives Aziraphale a kiss that doesn’t miss.

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After the Apoca-not-this-time, Crowley becomes the patron ‘saint’ of firefighters for a time, especially on those nights when he can’t sleep, when his dreams are filled with fire and smoke, and he hears the cry of sirens pass outside his flat. His cover is almost blown when the same firefighter he called a prat (in the book) sees him skulking about several fires and thinks that he’s actually the arsonist, which requires a little clean up by Aziraphale. Of course, Crowley admitting to Aziraphale that he needed his help in this, why he needed his help in this, why he was actually doing this, opens that wound all over again. So Aziraphale helps him, goes with him, stands beside him and holds his hand while he blesses the firemen and their charges until Crowley no longer associates fire with the end of Aziraphale, but with another new beginning in their lives together.

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How do they end up in these situations?

At what point did they go from being an angel and a demon trying to thwart the Apocalypse to professional babysitters?

It starts out with a recommendation.

Warlock’s mother passes Nanny’s name and contact information along to a friend of hers before their family moves to the states. Crowley can’t remember when he gave the Dowlings his genuine phone number, but nevertheless, when he wakes up one blustery Saturday morning, he finds a message requesting his services for a precocious nine-year-old girl who has a vivid imagination and trouble making friends her own age. Not that she doesn’t have friends, but they’re mostly frogs from the pond behind the house. Some are dolls she made out of sticks and grass which look unsettlingly nothing like humans.

The rest are imaginary.

She takes to Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis (brought on since, soon after hiring Nanny, the Cunnigham’s prize-winning roses and favorite begonias take quite ill and begin to die in droves) quickly. In fact, she becomes fond of them on the spot. From Brother Francis she learns the fine art of making friends of the human variety through generosity and kindness, and from Nanny she learns to influence people through the even finer arts of intimidation and sword play.

A few months after their employment, the young girl’s father is offered a job in Bucharest, which he takes without consulting his wife. The little girl begs her Nanny and the gardener tearfully to accompany them, but they tell her that, regretfully, they cannot. They assure her that with her newfound knowledge of friendship and fighting skills, she will make more friends than she’ll know what to do with and forget all about the two of them in no time.

And she does.

Aziraphale takes it well.

Crowley a little less so.

After that, Crowley and Aziraphale think for sure that their nanny and gardener days are well behind them. Crowley even changes his number daily to be sure. But somehow offers keep coming in, mostly through Aziraphale’s landline. But an equal share find their way to Crowley’s cell phone, and both demon and angel have no idea how. (Aziraphale suspects that every time Crowley starts missing Warlock or the little girl, his phone number changes back, but he hasn’t the heart to accuse him.) Odd nanny jobs spring up one after the other, which inevitably prompt need of a gardener soon after, as for as kind and loving as Nanny can be, her very presence around an otherwise sturdy wisteria will cause it to wither overnight. And of all the gardeners in England, Brother Francis seems to be the only one who can ever figure out why. It becomes a sort of urban legend, to the point that would-be candidates hire Brother Francis the second Nanny says yes in the hopes of circumventing a horrific bout of root rot before it takes hold.

Before Aziraphale and Crowley know it, they graduate from humble nanny and gardener to camp counselors at an exclusive summer camp that caters to, of all people, the children of royalty.

Aziraphale objects to the appointment, telling Crowley that it would be irresponsible for them to take a position of influence over children not only of the elite, but future world leaders. Crowley, however, foams at the mouth to accept. He claims it’s the demon in him eager to corrupt youth, but Aziraphale doesn’t buy that excuse for a minute. And since Aziraphale rarely denies his demon anything, they sign on for the job.

It ends up being a longer engagement than either of them predict, not only because they’re too damned popular to bow out unnoticed, but because they actually like teaching swimming, archery, and lanyard making to the under fourteen set. Crowley gets a commendation from Hell for taking an active part in leading future world leaders astray (which pisses Hastur off to no end). Aziraphale also gets a commendation from Heaven for proactively guiding the future leaders of the world in the ways of the Almighty. In the end, what they manage to accomplish is the exact thing they attempted to do with Warlock (which didn’t go off as stunningly because not only are they not the most competent demon and angel, Warlock is … well, Warlock) which is to inspire a group of children to become fair-minded and balanced normal adults.

 

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As immortal creatures, Aziraphale and Crowley have no concept of time. Crowley famously slept thru the 19th century (minus a day or two). Likewise, Aziraphale can get so lost in his books or a crossword puzzle that a series of novels he starts on Monday will be completed on Sunday without him lifting his head from the pages. But now that they have each other, their disregard for time has gotten far worse, since no one else exists when they're together. The last dance at their wedding lasted four days. They shared a hug once that clocked in at a fortnight. They hosted Thanksgiving at Crowley's flat, and after the guests left, the demon squirreled his angel husband into the bedroom to make love. The morning after they decided they were done worshipping one another, that they needed a break and a breath of fresh air, they ran into Anathema and Newt, grabbing two cups of cocoa at the corner deli. Aziraphale gushed about the new cherub ornaments Crowley got for their tree when an exasperated Anathema cried, "Mr. Fell! It's February!"

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Aziraphale loves holidays. Any excuse to have a big party with food, he’s in. Regardless of the country or culture of origin, he’s down for a party. He and Crowley have even created a few holidays of their own. Some of them are really obscure, inside joke type occasions, but their wonderful friends join them anyway, eager to be regaled with the humorous stories of their travels through time. There is one mildly uncomfortable holiday they celebrate each year, and mostly as a means for Aziraphale to clear his conscience … which he’s not sure he ever will.

It’s the “We’re sorry we almost killed you to save the world,” party he throws for Adam.