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"How do you manage to get students to wind rumours around you every single year?" Anathema asked, glancing back at Crowley as she reached for the cafe door.
"They're adults now, I expect them to act accordingly. You know, assume things from a first impression, gossip over the fence, jump to their own conclusions, make poorly backed up decisions because it feels right..." Crowley cracked a slight smile.
Anathema cackled at that as she followed him in. They got their drinks and a table for four (Aziraphale and Newton had promised to join them when they finished looking at books), and settled in to wait in comfort.
Off to one side, a cluster of students stared at them. They hadn't even dreamed that Dr Crowley might be able to make anyone laugh, let alone smile himself. And yet here was Dr Device, clearly enjoying his company. It seemed like a solution from heaven - here was someone who, somehow, liked him and spent time with him, and they could maybe push into something romantic. Their voices tumbled over each other, growing louder as they grew more enthusiastic, and Crowley saw Anathema wince at the line their discussion was taking.
He moved his hand to draw her attention and said softly, "Say the word and I'll go stop them."
"I don't want to hurt Newt. If he hears them... He worries so much about whether I'm going to get tired of him. I'm not, truly. He's... he's the ground beneath my feet, the support and stability that makes everything else I am possible. He's my everything. But people look at him, and look at me, and they think I can do 'better'. He takes it very much to heart, whatever I say."
Crowley covered her hand with his. "Understood. There's plenty that think Aziraphale can do 'better' for himself than me, too." He grinned, face lighting up with pure mischief for a moment, and he got quietly to his feet. "Keep watching."
By the time the students realised he was moving, he'd appropriated a chair from the nearest empty table and joined them. "Will you stop that?" he growled, all exasperation and just a touch flustered. "I'm married."
A guilty silence bubbled up to haunt the group as they glanced from Crowley to Anathema, and realised that they'd been about to break up someone's marriage - or try to - just because they didn't approve of him hanging around another professor.
One, what was his name? Clarence?, ventured, "Does Dr Fell know you're married?"
"Of course he does, he was there when it happened." Crowley glanced over at the door as Aziraphale and Newton entered. "Speak of angels..."
Newton peeled off to join Anathema, who welcomed him with a kiss on the cheek and a muttered update on what was happening.
Aziraphale bustled cheerfully up to the group and rested his hands on Crowley's shoulders. "And what are you all up to, dears?"
Crowley tipped his head back at an angle where Aziraphale could see under his dark glasses but no-one else could. "Oh, you'll like this," he said, with a private wink. "They're matchmaking ."
Aziraphale beamed. "Oh, how delightful!" he told them, eyes twinkling with devilish merriment. "Well, I'll be sorry to deprive you of your chief plotter - I know how good he is at it - but my husband and I have to be elsewhere. Come along, Anthony."
Crowley untangled himself from his chair and rose to his feet, feeling Aziraphale's hands trail off his shoulders, replaced by an arm round his back as he moved. "I'm sure they'll plot just fine without me, angel," he agreed, looping an arm around his husband's shoulders in return. "They have been so far." He swept their shocked faces with a dryly amused stare and walked away, leaving their plans for him shattered on the floor alongside their assumptions.
Moments later, the full scale of it hit them. Dr Crowley wasn't just hanging around Dr Fell for no reason. They were married.