18; Change Isn't Always Easy

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Context: Just a one-shot about the boys settling into their South Downs cottage and some unexpected emotions related to the big move. Inspired by thekaskproject-art's fan-art piece on tumblr.

Ever since they moved to the countryside, Aziraphale had some good days and he had some bad days. He didn't think leaving the bookshop would affect him so much, neither of them did. And yet, here he was many times, homesick in his new home. Yes, he still had his collection intact, personal belongings and knickknacks included, but it wasn't the same. He was happy, there was no doubt about it. Hell, that was the first thing Crowley asked one night when he noticed him crying by himself in a corner of his study.

Word Count: 7,000

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Truth was, maybe Crowley should've seen it coming. Aziraphale had owned that place and called it home since 1800, of course it wasn't going to be easy for him to part with it! Emotionally, anyway. Physically though, the angel had practically miracle'd a 'For Sale' sign on top of the shop hours on the front door as soon as Crowley suggested they move in together. In an official sense, at least, since he was usually hovering over the angel in some way.

Once they found the perfect South Downs cottage they started packing. Crowley's stuff fit into about ten boxes total, plants included. While Aziraphale had too many to keep track of. It was a good thing they still had their powers, because if not for their miracles, there was no way they would've been able to fit everything in the Bentley. It was almost comical. The whole backseat and the floors were completely covered in tiny boxes which could fit in the palm of a child's hand. They towered all the way up to the car's ceiling. Aziraphale was grateful that, while Crowley's driving was fairly reckless, the amount of times he had actually crashed into someone else was still just a solid 1, so he wouldn't really need the main rearview mirror for this trip. He was also grateful that Crowley preformed a little miracle of his own to ensure nothing in the boxes would break while in 'tiny mode' as he called it, so no amount of toppling over or throwing would actually damage anything.

Since the loading and unloading of the car was anything but strenuous, where they truly got tired was organizing all their belongings. Aziraphale had a whole system: Distinct shades of brown to identify the century the books inside were published. Different initials depending on the types of work. The word 'fragile' scribbled over the top of just about every book, the more underlined it was, the more delicate the objects were (for example: 1st editions he had no copies of, or a very rare printing error). None of Crowley's boxes had any type of distinguishing features, so they were easy to tell apart from the angel's. Thankfully, they had purchased the place fully furnished, so they only needed to focus on organizing their things how they wanted.

It took two straight days of none-stop working and putting everything in its new spot before they finally finished. Considering the amount of miracles they did during the move, they had decided to do the rest the human way, minus the sleeping bit. Crowley regretted it immensely. He was tired, he felt like shit and he needed a drink. Aziraphale, not as exhausted as his demon but fairly worn out as well, decided they had earned some time to relax. This is how they ended up sharing a few good bottles of wine as they soaked in the most aromatic bubblebath the serpent had ever experienced.

Now undoubtedly drunk and cleaner than before, they dried off as best they could and stumbled into their new bedroom. If he hadn't been so intoxicated, Aziraphale would've fussed about sleeping naked on the brand new bedsheets instead of in his incredibly comfortable pajamas and still dripping wet, no less. Crowley definitely didn't care, having fallen asleep as soon as he landed face-first on the bed. They slept for days, somehow, they even slept through their hangover. A true blessing in disguise, they figured.

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