Context: Based off of "thebean_doodles"/"JollyBean14" (that's their IG and Twitter respectively), Good (w)Omens art since they draw them so freaking adorable!
In which Crowley is the Dowling family's nanny (not Ashtoreth this time) and Aziraphale is their chef. They're both presenting female in this AU, always have been and they both live in the Dowling residence. Human aliases are: Ms. Antoinette J. Crowley and Ms. Ezra Fell.
Word Count: 4,400
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Aziraphale's POV:
"Warlock, sweetheart, get down from the countertop! You'll get hurt!" Yelled the short principality as she turned away from the stove.
This child will discorporate me!
Crowley laughed from the other side of the kitchen. "Relax angel, he's got great balance for a four year old. He'll be fine."
"My dear, I don't care if he is a trapeze master! The last thing I need is the literal spawn of Satan getting hurt while I'm in the general vicinity. Your boss is not exactly the forgiving type, now, is he?" Asked the angel, picking up the child and placing him on the floor. Said child then ran off into the next room, giggling away. For some reason, he found Aziraphale's voice tone funny whenever she was upset or worried.
The demon grimaced at her last sentence, leaning on the countertop. "Let's not get into bosses being forgiving, 'cause I'm still waiting for yours to tell me I Fell because I accidentally got mixed in with all the rest and She couldn't see me. Not because I actually deserved it."
Here we go...
Aziraphale groaned, focusing again on the vegetables she had been chopping before noticing Warlock had climbed onto the island-counter. "Not this again, please. Last night you wouldn't stop saying things about before the Fall. And let me tell you, most of them were childish complaints about the other angels."
Bother, that came out more rude than I intended. Should I apologize? No... She's a demon. And it's not my forgiveness she wants, anyhow...
Crowley and Aziraphale had been living in the Dowling household for four years now. In the beginning, they'd try to keep to themselves to avoid any suspicions from Harriet or the staff. They quickly noticed that no one in the house cared about anyone else, outside of their work. The maids weren't the gossiping type and the butler was very tight-lipped. If it wasn't for the fact that Crowley liked plants and went out into the lawn at random times to enjoy the greenery, you'd think the gardener was nonexistent because he never showed his face. Aziraphale was in charge of anything and everything that had to do with food, save for setting the table and clearing it out afterwards. And Crowley had Warlock to deal with. Really, you wouldn't see anyone wandering around the place unless they had a job to do. Otherwise, they'd stick to their quarters and stay there all hours of the day. Quite boring if the angel was being honest with herself.
Thanks to this, they figured they didn't have to be as cautious as they thought. So every night, without fail, Crowley would go to Aziraphale's quarters for a midnight chat and nightcap. They had their own rooms right next to each other. Within the first week of living there, Crowley noticed the wall they shared had a small door in the far corner, near the windows, which connected the two rooms. Rather than going through the main doors, she'd crawl through the tiny entrance and almost always made Aziraphale jump by sneaking up behind her. You'd think she'd be used to it by now. Anyway, that is how Crowley ended up far too drunk and venting last night on the angel's bed. Much more drunk than usual too, plus, she forgot to sober up before falling asleep (also on the angel's bed, they effectively swapped rooms for the night) and woke up with a hangover. Luckily, she was able to miracle it away before dealing with the screaming child.
Crowley made a face, a slight pout on her ruby-red lips. "I was bullied, it wasn't my fault! You try not getting ridiculed when your name is 'Virginia'! Everyone else had a nice, angelic name but nooooo, I just had to be plain ol' boring Virginia. A human name for an angel! Can you believe it? Tell you what, I'm glad I got stripped of that name." She huffed, placing a small toothpick in her mouth. Always needed to keep that thing occupied now that she had quit smoking for Warlock's sake.
Aziraphale hummed, dumping all the chopped up vegetables into the soup pot. "Now it makes sense."
"What does?" Asked the demon as she raised a brow over her dark sunglasses.
"Why you went with 'Antoinette' for a name. It's a beautiful name, not much space for ridicule among the choirs. 'Antoinette J. Crowley' does roll of the tongue better than 'Virginia Crowley' would have, I'll admit." Explained Aziraphale, covering the pot and lowering the flame.
Crowley gave her a devilish smirk. "And here I thought you didn't like it."
"I never said that. Did you ever decide what your 'J' stands for?" Aziraphale felt herself blush and tried changing the subject.
"Eh, settled for 'Jane'. Simple enough, I thought. I'm a simple being, figured a simple middle name would be fitting."
Aziraphale scoffed. "My dear, there is nothing simple about you."
"Careful angel, that almost sounded like a compliment." She said before sauntering out of the kitchen to find Warlock.
The principality sighed softly, checking the simmer of the soup. It was...
~~~~~
Two days later Aziraphale woke up at the crack of dawn, as she always did, to start on breakfast for both the family and the staff. She was greeted by a new face in the kitchen.
He was tall, pale, blond, with green eyes and as far as Crowley was concerned, too fucking friendly. Apparently, he was the new sous-chef. Mrs. Dowling had decided to start hosting work meetings at home to be closer to her son and figured she may as well save herself the catering money and have her staff do it for just a bit more than their usual pay. Garfield Johnson, "Garry" as he liked to be called, was very charming and incredibly witty. Not to mention talented in the kitchen. If Aziraphale weren't counting her powers, it could easily be said that her and Garry were on the same level of skill and neither of them should be referred to as a sous-chef.
Thanks to this new working arrangement, and new friend, Crowley would frequent the kitchen less and less, and she'd do little miracles to mess up whatever Garry was doing at the moment and Aziraphale would have to do something to counter it. Growing exasperated with this behavior, the angel confronts the demon about it. The first mistake was doing so after Crowley had already started drinking that night. Mistake number two was when said drunk demon actually let it slip that she was jealous and in love with the principality. The final mistake was Aziraphale's reaction to the confession. She was horrified. Yes, she knew the serpent loved her, but she was never supposed to say it, neither of them were ever supposed to say it. It was too dangerous. It always had been, especially recently working so closely together, admitting it was frightening. So the angel decides to throw every single excuse she can muster, any insult she can think of, to try getting the demon to sober up and forget what she had accidentally said. She paced around the bedroom as she rattled off reasons they shouldn't, couldn't, and wouldn't be together and when she finally looked up at the redhead, her heart sank.
Crowley was crying. Crowley never cried while drunk. It may sound like she was about to burst into tears, but they never fell while she was drinking. If she ever let them fall, it was when she was sober. Meaning: she sobered up before Aziraphale went on a tirade and took the rejection to heart, unlike all the other times she had received the 'angel/demon' speech. Crowley put down the bottle on Aziraphale's vanity, turned serpent and slid back into her room without another word. The angel tried to follow, but both doors were locked.
Give her some time. She knows you don't mean it...
The following night, Aziraphale still felt awful about what she had said. She had tried to ignore it, deciding to focus on her human tasks and burying herself in a few books between the incident and right now, when she was fretting about it.
This may have been my worst mistake with you. Even worse than the holy water dispute and not speaking to you because of it for decades. Sure, you were asleep for most of that time, but still. Oh Crowley, what an awful friend I've been to you...
With that, she finally got the courage to apologize to the demon. So she knelt down and knocked on the little door which connected the two rooms. Since no one had never knocked on it, Crowley opened her main door instead. When she realized no one was there but still heard knocking, she went over to the tiny one. She opened it up and Aziraphale stared from her end. After a few more seconds of silence, she then entered the crawl-space, with a sorry expression on her face.
"What? Come to insult me some more? You've said all you needed to already, Aziraphale." She spat bitterly.
Angry tone. Full name. No 'angel'. Not good...
The blonde looked up at her sadly. "Actually, my dear, I've come to apologize. I should've never said those things. Especially because I didn't mean any of them. May I come in?"
Crowley stared at her, lips still pouted into a frown, but she relented. She gave the angel a shrug and moved away from the opening so she could enter. Aziraphale then tried to wiggle herself out of where she was, but couldn't. She grunted and tried with all her might but it was impossible. She felt like a canned sausage and her hands were crushed under her torso, meaning she couldn't snap or gesture her way out with a miracle.
"Uh, my dear? It appears I'm stuck here."
Crowley was on the floor again, a confused expression on her face. "How'd you manage to get in there in the first place if, now, you can't even get out?"
She blushed. "I believe my troublesome area are my hips. Oh, Gabriel was right. I should stop eating, it all goes to my waist!" She groaned, trying even harder to get out. She squeezed her eyes shut while trying to free herself this time.
Maybe if I focus on it enough, I don't need my hands for the miracle...
"Fuck Gabriel. You're perfect the way you are, angel." She heard Crowley say, but when she opened her eyes, the demon was gone.
Perfect?...
The main door to Crowley's room was wide open and then she heard her's open as well. Next, she felt two delicate hands wrap around her ankles.
"If this doesn't work, or if I hurt you, I'll break the bloody doorframe." She told Aziraphale before she started pulling.
Oh, Lord-
Aziraphale felt her body tingle slightly with demonic energy and by the time Crowley pulled at her ankles a third time, she essentially flew out of the tiny doorway and landed on Crowley. The demon was now pinned in between the bed and the angel. Crowley groaned a bit but placed her arms around the principality's torso, her cheek resting on her right shoulder.
"You alright?"
"Yes, my dear, thank you."
"Angel..."
"Yes, Crowley?"
"I'm sorry."
"Whatever for? You just helped me-"
"The fight was my fault. If I had kept my stupid little crush under wraps, you would've never gotten upset with me and we'd still be friends... Angel, you're the only friend I have. I used to have friends Up There, but once we Fell, I was alone. Demons aren't meant to get along or be friends. It's a miracle they can work together without killing each other most of the time. And then I met you..."
"Crowley-"
"Aziraphale, please. Just forget I ever said anything. Please, still be my friend." She was begging through tears as she hugged the angel from behind. The grip she held wasn't painful, but it felt as if she was breaking apart and Aziraphale was the only thing keeping her in one piece.
The blonde being took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling, then closing her eyes.
Lord, forgive me. But I simply cannot do this anymore...
"My dear, look at me." She breathed, opening her eyes and shifting in Crowley's lap.
The demon obeyed, the whites of her eyes were nowhere to be found. Her nose was incredibly red and her face was soaked from all the tears. She looked so afraid, so fragile. It broke the angel's heart to see it.
She took another deep breath, while Crowley looked like she was losing all the air in her lungs. "Crowley, this isn't a simple crush. You said you loved me. 'In love' with me, you said."
Crowley's face fell, as if she was ashamed. "And I'll bury it again, if you tell me to." She whispered as she looked down.
"No, I will not make you do that..." She said to her, holding her shoulders as they were rocked by her uncontrollable breathing.
Aziraphale made her look her in the eyes this time. "And I will also not make you throw away 6,000 years of friendship." Said the angel sternly, almost angrily but immediately softened when she saw the worry in Crowley's eyes.
No turning back. Say it. Say it now before you lose your nerve.
Her grip on Crowley's face turned featherlight but she was still holding her, as a sign that she wouldn't let her fall. "My dear, I'm in love with you too. I have been for quite a few years now. I assumed it was a simply crush, that it would fade over time, but it never did. In fact, it just kept growing. What I said here yesterday? I didn't actually mean any of those things. I was just afraid of what would happen to us if we got caught... You know I've always been terribly afraid of Head Office. I simply wanted us to be safe, and I assumed that being just friends would be the way to accomplish that. But not if it hurts you like this."
Crowley is still crying, but it's different now. They weren't pained tears, they were relieved ones. She clung to the angel again, Aziraphale could feel her smile against her neck.
"I'm sorry I made you wait for so long, my dear. But now, I will love you openly. As long as you want me."
The demon nodded frantically into the principality's shoulder. "I want you. More than anything, I want you, angel."
Aziraphale smiled and held her tightly. "Would this make us girlfriends? Partners? Wives?"
"Whatever you want, angel. Although, you'd have to give me time to find a good enough ring if you want to be my wife." She chuckled half-heartedly.
The angel hummed. "Oh, that's right. I suppose I should start looking as well."
Crowley pulled away so fast she'd be feeling whiplash in the morning. "Woah, woah, woah! I was just kidding! We've only just confessed and, already, you want to get married? Weren't you the one who didn't want to go fast?"
Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, well, something occurred to me after you accidentally shared your feelings with me last night. We've only got seven years left together if this plan to balance out the Antichrist's influences doesn't go as planned. We've known each other for six millennia, therefore, we know each other quite well. Pardon my French, my love, but fuck going slow. I should like to hold you and cherish you freely for all the time we may have left."
Crowley lunged forward and pressed her lips against Aziraphale's. The angel melted into her as if she belonged in her lap. "You had me at 'fuck', angel." Giggled the demon once they parted.
Aziraphale rolled her eyes. "Of course I did, you foul-mouthed fiend." She laughed.
"Your foul-mouthed fiend." Said Crowley, nuzzling into her neck.
The angel nodded and held her tighter. "Yes, all mine."
"Does that mean I can stay the night in your bed and you won't be upset?" Crowley asked softly with a hopeful tone.
Aziraphale nodded. "I would love nothing more, my dear."
"Good because I don't think I'll ever be able to leave." Announced the demon, pleased with herself.
The blonde glared at her. "Do you want to get fired?"
"We could remodel the rooms. Turn mine into the kitchen/playroom. If we open this window, Warlock can climb out and go play outside if he wants and I can watch him from here."
"Your laziness never fails to amaze me, Crowley." Aziraphale rolled her eyes.
The slender redhead squeezed her a bit more. "It's not laziness angel, it's comfort. My comfort will now consist of being attached to those lovely and not-at-all-excessive hips of yours every second of every day."
"As lovely as that sounds, you will have to leave the room and be productive."
"Make me." Said Crowley, flipping their positions so Aziraphale was the one in between the bed and the supernatural being, burying her face in the angel's midsection and wrapping her long limbs around her again.
Safe to say, Aziraphale could get used to this kind of attention from the demon.
~~~~~
After that, they quickly let Garry know of their relationship. Crowley's intentions were a way of marking territory, while Aziraphale's were more friendly in nature, mainly so they'd have a witness for the ceremony. As far as the rest of the staff was concerned, they knew of the union but didn't care. Mr. Dowling was rarely ever there so it wasn't his concern, and Mrs. Dowling had congratulated them once, never mentioning anything about the relationship again.
Considering everyone there minded their own business, the angel and demon never expected to have an embarrassing moment while they were being intimate. They learned to lock their door after Warlock walked in on them one night. Had it not been for Crowley's thighs crushing Aziraphale's ears under the sheets and the demon focusing on her breathing and moans, one of them might've noticed the fumbling of the doorknob before the door flew open. Crowley had never stopped time and erased someone's mind so quickly. From then on, not only did they make sure the door was locked, they did a sound-proof miracle on the walls of the room to ensure Warlock didn't think his nanny was 'getting hurt' again. Needless to say, the couple couldn't wait to get their own place.
At least, pending the world didn't end.
By the time the boy's 11 birthday came around and they realized he wasn't the Antichrist, they briefly considered giving up and running off to the countryside and waiting for the end there. However, they couldn't bring themselves to do nothing and watch the world they adored so much end in fire and flame.
That is how they ended up in Tadfield Airbase, after hearing all the news reports of strange things happening there. Somehow, they managed to convince the real Antichrist, Adam Young, to stop Armageddon and save the world. The boy didn't ask much, but judging by the rings the angel and demon wore, he gathered they were married.
The rings were incredibly custom, nothing like them in any store, or in the world for that matter. Aziraphale's was a tear-cut ruby on a delicate black-gold band which looked like two twisting snakes wrapping around her finger, meeting and biting into the gemstone. A clear reference to how they met all those years ago. Crowley's, meanwhile, was an asscher-cut sapphire on a thick band of white-gold with diamonds perfectly placed into it. It was as radiant as the angel's eyes, both the ones you could always see and those which would only appear in her true form. They both looked like something the other would wear, which was the point. They marked territory, they were a warning.
Unfortunately, this is what ratted them out when Gabriel and Beelzebub laid eyes on them again after the dust settled and the humans had gone. Next thing they knew, they were chained to the ground facing each other as Gabriel swung his own flaming sword at Crowley and Beelzebub struck Aziraphale with an axe she summoned. The wives acted on instinct, they used their wings to cover each other and to serve as one final embrace before the blows landed. Their last 'I love you' drowned in regret.
But nothing happened. It was hard to say who was more confused. Gabriel's sword had gone straight through Crowley's heart, and yet there she was, as if there wasn't a large blade going through her torso. Meanwhile, Beelzebub's axe was stuck on the base of Aziraphale's neck. There was no blood and weapons had done nothing other than pierce their corporations. They should've destroyed them both, body, soul and true form. Never in their 6,000 years of existence had the couple seen their superiors so afraid of anything that wasn't The Almighty Herself or Satan Himself. Without giving it much thought, they teleported back to their respective Head Offices, the would-be execution tools quickly following suit. The chains vanished and they immediately fell into each other's arms.
Crowley!
Aziraphale scrambled to grab her wife's face, throwing the glasses across the tarmac. "Are you alright?!"
"Besides the gaping hole in my chest, just fine. Tickety-boo." Said Crowley before healing herself with a gesture which looked like she simply pinched the skin back together again with two fingers. She then ran a hand over Aziraphale's wound. "And you?"
The angel snapped away the evidence of the attack, not letting go or focusing on anything else that wasn't Crowley. Fear and relief finally took over the short blonde and she collapsed into a crying heap on the demon's lap. Her whole body quaked as tears flowed out of her eyes. Crowley held her gently, trying to calm her down.
"It worked, angel... It worked." Whispered the Serpent of Eden, reassuring her that this was real.
Aziraphale was out of breath, remarkable for a being which didn't need to breathe. "What if it hadn't? I couldn't possibly live without you, darling."
"It did. We don't have to worry about that anymore." She replied as she shushed her.
The angel tried to glare at her. "How were you not terrified?!"
"Just because I can mask it, doesn't mean I wasn't terrified out of my goddamned mind, Aziraphale... I've been afraid of losing you since the dawn of time. It's a constant state of being for me. I hoped with all my might that the curse would work as soon as I smelled Gabriel lighting up his sword..."
The day they got married, each one did something specific to the other's ring. Crowley made sure to curse Aziraphale's as much as possible, while Aziraphale blessed Crowley's to the highest of Heaven's spheres, where only The Almighty resided. It was more than a symbol of their love, it was for their protection. Neither was aware the other did this until they slipped on the rings during the ceremony. Entwined with the love, the bands also shared the blessing and curse with the recipient, which echoed in their heads far more than whatever the judge was saying before the "I do's".
Aziraphale's blessing had occurred earlier that morning in their bedroom, before Crowley had woken up. My friend, my lover, my better half. With this ring, I thee wed and vow to protect. With it comes all my love and all my power to keep you out of harm's way. If any ill-intent should come your way, let this be your shield. Carry it and I shall be there with you as well, even when I'm not. Carry it and know how I cherish you, what you mean to me and never forget it.
Crowley cursed Aziraphale's ring when they were out in the hallway of the courtroom waiting for their turn. My angel, I don't deserve you. I may be damned but I know I'm blessed to have your love every day. I will always be there for you. I'll protect you, like I have for centuries, and this ring will protect you even when I can't. Like you've had faith in me showing up to save you, have faith that this ring will do the same.
Neither had said it out loud, but once the rings were on, they could sense every word in their hearts. And right now, as they sat on the airbase runway, those words reverberated in their chests. The bands still felt warm even after an hour of the incident going down. That was how they survived the attack from their former bosses and were able to get away without so much as a hair out of place. Whether it'd work a second time or this was a one-time miracle, they didn't want to find out. They simply wanted to move on, be happy and safe with each other for the rest of eternity.
With that, Crowley picked up her wife and walked towards the Bentley. Once inside the vehicle, the demon shifted, buckling in Aziraphale before tending to her own seatbelt. The engine turned over and she looked at her one more time.
"Where to, angel?" She asked softly.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, finally calm and feeling quite relieved.
She looked at her wife and smiled for the first time that day. "Anywhere you want." Far away from here, most preferably.
"You sure you're not to tired? We could go back home and rest, if you like."
"My home is with you, my love. Lead the way."
That is how an angel and a demon ended up retiring in a quiet little village in the French countryside.