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Anniversary for an Angel

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Anniversary for an Angel


The sun was barely up when Crowley eased their way out from Aziraphale’s warm, sleepy embrace. After taking a moment to drink in the sight of their gorgeous husband, they quietly got dressed and tiptoed out the front door. Treble, who had been visiting his children, was on the porch. Crowley put their fingers to their lips before stepping aside to allow him to enter the cottage.


Crowley crept into the garden and went over to the largest rosebush, quietly cutting two of the biggest roses, a red one and a white one. With a soft snap of their fingers, the roses appeared in a beautiful vase on Aziraphale’s nightstand. Phase one completed.


Normally, Crowley took the Bentley whenever they had to go into town. But knowing that the roar of the engine starting would surely wake the angel, they opted instead to walk and take advantage of the cool weather. Birdsong accompanied them, and a lovely breeze sprang up from the west, ruffling their hair.


Decadent Delights, the local bakery, was already open, the delicious aroma of pies and pastries filling the air. Thomas Anderson, the owner/head baker, smiled broadly at Crowley. “Morning, Tony!” Crowley mock frowned and shook their head, holding up three fingers. “Ah. Crowley, my apologies. What brings you here so early?”


Crowley pulled out their pen and pad. ‘Placed an online order a few days ago. Here to pick it up.’ They handed it over, and Thomas grinned.


“Oh, right! Well, to be honest, didn’t expect you this early.” Crowley looked contrite. “But no worries, it’s all ready. Just need you to sign for it and check that it’s what you ordered.” He went into the back and returned shortly with a large blue box bearing the bakery’s name. He placed it on the counter and opened it. “That look okay?”


Inside were the most beautiful looking crepes Crowley had ever seen in their life, each exquisitely decorated with chocolate wings and hearts, dusted with powdered sugar, and generously covered with strawberries. Crowley beamed. Aziraphale was going to love them. ‘It’s perfect.’ They waited until Thomas wasn’t looking, then with a subtle snap sent the box to the cottage’s kitchen counter. After paying, they left, smiling. Phase two completed.


Evelyn was ready and waiting for them. She was one of the few people in town that was in on their plan, and she grinned at the sunshine smile on their face. “So, does he suspect anything?” Crowley shook their head, and Evelyn laughed. “Well, that will make it even more special. I’ve got the sandwiches all ready, and as you asked, they’re in a picnic basket. I also put in some of my best cheese and the strawberry jam that I made.” She handed over a large wicker basket, then to Crowley’s surprise, kissed them on the cheek. “You are both such lovely people, you deserve the world.”


Crowley’s face was as red as their hair.


After sending the picnic basket to the cottage, Crowley headed back themselves. One more thing to do. They had scoured the web for weeks, and finally had found the last, most vital piece-a bottle of two hundred year old brandy. The biggest challenge had been keeping it a secret from Aziraphale. That angel could smell quality liquor from a mile away. In the end, Crowley had resorted to a slight demonic miracle. Now they reached into the fridge and pulled it out.

They went back into the garden and spread out a checkered blanket on the ground under an apple tree, glaring at it so that it would stay perfectly in place. Next came the picnic basket, followed by a set of fine china(they were sure Aziraphale would forgive them), then crystal decanters for the brandy, and finally the crepes, arranged artfully on a platter. Now all that was left to do was wait.


Aziraphale, in the meantime, was rather curious as to what was going on. First he had awoken to find Crowley’s side of the bed empty and cold. Before he could find it in himself to get upset, he noticed the roses on his nightstand. “Oh!” Rising, he walked over and inhaled their sweet scent, sighing in happiness. “Crowley? Love, where are you?”


He checked the bathroom. No demon. Music room. Empty. Living, dining, parlor, kitchen. Nothing. Feeling distinctly worried now(and a touch angry), Aziraphale headed outside. Maybe Crowley was in the garden.


“Crowley? Dearest, where...” his voice died in his throat as he came upon the scene. “Oh, Crowley...” Aziraphale’s vision blurred as tears of joy streamed down his face. “I...”


Crowley smiled. ‘Happy Anniversary, my angel.’ Aziraphale, not trusting himself to speak without blubbing, came over and sat next to them, pulling them into a deep, passionate kiss.


Even after all these millenia, he could still be surprised by how deeply he loved his demon.


(The picnic was a raging success, and after, Aziraphale dragged Crowley back to bed and spent several blissful hours thanking them. VERY, VERY THOROUGHLY.)