It was something that he had always known. At least, it felt like always. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know what to call his partner. Aziraphale assumed it was because he was an Angel. As an ethereal being of love, of course it would be something he would know.
Crowley, on the other hand, had no fucking idea. It varied from day to day. Decade to decade. It was both infuriating and invigorating at the same time. He really hadn’t had the chance to notice until he had officially moved in with Aziraphale. He was honestly dreading the day he would finally have to have the “please use feminine pronouns today, dear” conversation, but to his surprise, it never came. He assumed it was that, after six thousand years, Aziraphale had picked up on a few of his mannerisms and could tell. That was, at least, until yesterday.
It had been an absolutely heavenly day. Crowley had been in a mood all morning and nobody could figure out why. Not even Crowley. Aziraphale had been giving the demon as much space as he could. Crowley was prowling the isles of the bookstore, mussing things up as he went, and Aziraphale was quietly following behind him (at an extremely respectable distance of course), slowly fixing the shelves. This had gone on all morning, and the pair had looped the bookstore quite a few times now.
The tinkling of bells alerted Aziraphale to an unwanted guest entering the bookstore. He sighed deeply. I’m sure I locked that.
He quietly approached the guest from behind, waiting until just the right moment to alarm them. “Hello there!” He said, obnoxiously over cheery, “how can I help you? We will actually be closing soon, so if there’s anything I can direct you to, please let me know.”
“Oh, I’m fine thanks, just browsing.” Aziraphale huffed.
“Alright, well let me know if you need anything.” He made an attempt to seem as cold shouldered as he could, but the guest seemed to either not notice or not care.
Aziraphale did his best to keep the guest away from Crowley. He even miracled up an entire new bookcase of Spanish novellas to block the woman’s path.
This game of keep-away lasted about five minutes, which was as long as Aziraphale’s patience would allow. At this point, Crowley had figured out what was happening, and was just getting more upset at the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest. Of course Aziraphale would do everything in his power to keep him happy, but he was having a Bad Day, and he would continue having a Bad Day until something happened that actually made him feel Good.
“Miss, I am dreadfully sorry, but my wife has fallen ill and I must tend to her. I have to ask you to leave. Promptly.” Aziraphale had a talent for balancing on the line between Retail Kindness and Angelic Anger, and this was one of those times. The woman huffed.
“I guess I’ll be leaving without getting anything then,” she said.
“Sometimes that is our lot in life,” Aziraphale ushered the lady through the door. “Have a nice day!” Aziraphale locked the door, flipped the sign to closed, and turned to lean back on it, letting out a long sigh.
Aziraphale opened his eyes to see Crowley standing in the center of the bookshop looking a little shaken.
“Yes of course, dear, we are married after all,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you forgot!”
Crowley blinked. Aziraphale’s dazzling smile seemed to melt away his mood, leaving him feeling lost and tired.
“How did you even know? I never told you,” Crowley asked quietly. Aziraphale started over from his place in the doorway, smile faltering into a look of worry.
“My dear, I always know.” Crowley felt the worry lift from her shoulders. I always know. Wait.
“How did you know, when I didn't even know?” Crowley asked in frustration. That is absolutely not fair. Aziraphale smiled.
“I guess that’s one of the perks of being loved by an angel,” he said, cradling Crowley’s face in his hands. She sighed, leaning into his touch and reaching up to hold one of his wrists. She smiled, checks flush and tears in her eyes.
“Hush, my love,” Aziraphale said quietly, “Let's have lunch.”