#this was supposed to be a quick little thing after that TOV picture but uh

[zincfingermotif]

four of them

[freyjawriter24]

Advent Omens: Fire

My fic for yesterday’s advent prompt from @drawlight. Massive thank you to @oath-of-lovingkindness for beta-ing this one and answering my questions, I really appreciate it!

-----

Aziraphale crunched down the already-frosted path to the cottage, his breath forming thin clouds on the chilled winter air. He was back late from wandering the countryside for the day, but it wasn’t yet nightfall – not too late, yet.

He paused as he rounded the leafless apple tree to take in the full view of the house – their house – as perfect as it could be. The sun was setting behind it at this angle, the light spilling across the sky in a fiery halo, turning the few nearby clouds orange and pink as it sank towards the horizon.

The cottage wasn’t particularly big – small but spacious, the estate agent had said – but that suited the both of them just fine. Right now, it looked like the picture of cosiness; the warm light of the fire was bright enough right now to fill the window of the front room, sending a soft glow onto the grass in front of it. Welcome home.

The angel sighed happily. Home. It hadn’t been theirs for long – less than a year, a matter of months, really – and yet already this felt so right, so comfortable and intimate and perfect. He started up the path again, ready now to get inside and feel the warmth of that fire.

“You’re late,” a teasing voice said as Aziraphale pushed the door shut behind him. He looked up to see Crowley’s face peeking through the door to the kitchen, free of sunglasses and with his newly-long hair pulled back in a loose bun.

“Not quite!” the angel protested. Then he turned curious – “What have you been up to in there?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” the demon said, disappearing back out of sight. Aziraphale heard a click of fingers, and then Crowley was walking back towards him, hair falling suspiciously free around his shoulders. He just got changed. What was he wearing before, then?

“Come on, then, angel,” Crowley said, leading the way into the living room. “Time to light the candles.”

-----

It was Newt who had asked.

“Wait, you don’t go to church on Sundays?”

Aziraphale’s brow creased. “Not usually. I have been known to... Well, a handful of times over the centuries, perhaps...”

“My feet pretty much burn off if I walk into a church, so not me,” Crowley cut in.

Newt looked taken aback. “But...” He shook his head, confused. “I mean, you were there. Aren’t you like... the ultimate Christians?”

Aziraphale let out a peal of laughter. “Oh good gracious, no!”

Crowley was grinning widely. “We’d already been around for over four thousand years before Christianity was even thought of, mate,” he said. “If anything, we’re Jewish.”

“Oh.” The man paused for a moment, took off his glasses and fiddled with them, then shoved them back on again. “So... I mean, were you uncomfortable at Christmas last year, then? I didn’t think to ask. Do you celebrate Hanukkah?”

The celestial beings looked at each other.

“Uh, no,” Aziraphale said delicately. “We don’t really tend to celebrate... well, any of it. Last year was a first for us. Religion is more of a... human thing. We have direct proof, you see. No need for faith when you have belief based on certain knowledge.”

“Right, yeah,” Crowley agreed. “So Christmas is fine, Hanukkah is fine, it’s all just... participating in human stuff, you know? It doesn’t have the same meaning for us, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said slowly.

Newt nodded, looking even more confused than before. “Okay...”

Hours later, though, back at their new cottage, the angel and the demon were still thinking about that conversation.

“We could, you know,” Crowley said, as casually as possible. “If you wanted to?”

“Could what?” Aziraphale said hesitantly.

“You know... Celebrate Hanukkah this year. I mean, we did Christmas last time with the others, it would only be fair...”

“What’s this? Anthony J. Crowley, talking about what’s fair?”

The demon glowered at him. “Oh, shut up.”

Aziraphale smiled softly and moved to take Crowley’s hand. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea, dearest. Thank you.”

“Ngh,” said Crowley. “Uh, well, yeah. Anything for you, angel.”

-----

They’d never done it properly before. Crowley looked up most of it online, to see what had changed and what hadn’t. It wasn’t like they were entirely new to this – after all, when you live for that long among humans, you pick up a thing or two – but it was still uncertain, there were still things they needed to rediscover.

Now, they’d done it. They were here, tucked away in their own little cottage, surrounded by candles and warm firelight, listening to the beautiful sounds of ‘Light One Candle’ playing from Crowley’s Hanukkah Spotify playlist filter through the air.

As the song came to an end and the now-familiar opening notes of ‘Hanukkah Oh Hanukkah’ struck up, Crowley swung himself up from the sofa. He moved to stand in front of Aziraphale, offering a hand to him.

“Got a surprise for you, angel.”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale took the offered hand and allowed himself to be led out of the room.

He’d forgotten his earlier suspicion of Crowley’s quick change until they entered the kitchen. There, it suddenly all made sense.

The kitchen was a small but high-ceilinged room that felt bigger than it was. There was barely space for more than an oven, a sink, a fridge, and a little bit of work surface, but when the estate agent had left them with the keys, a miracle or two had managed to somehow cram in a little dining table there too, with just enough room for a couple of celestial beings to sit at. There, now, on the tiny table, was a veritable feast of Hanukkah delights.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, endless awe and adoration in his voice. He looked over the spread – latkes, sufganiyot, a little cheeseboard to one side, yet more fried food, though no meat to be found – and then turned to stare at the demon, whose unconcealed eyes were flicking nervously between the angel and the table.

“It’s wonderful, my dear. Thank you.”

“Don’t say anything yet, angel. You haven’t tried my cooking.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be delightful!” He plucked a sufgani from the display and took a bite.

“Mmm! You made these from scratch?”

“Yeah,” Crowley said, running a hand through his hair in the epitome of casualness. “Took a few goes to get it right, but...”

“They’re amazing! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing,” the demon said, finally smiling now. He watched as the angel devoured the sweet, jam-filled doughnut and then immediately reached for another. “Hey, save one for me too! I made them – want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Aziraphale beamed and grabbed for a potato pancake instead. “Why don’t we bring it all through to the living room?”

“Good idea. Where’s the rest of the chocolate gelt gone? I’m going to beat you at dreidels this time...”

-----

They got a week of this. A whole week, of just each other in the evenings, of playing games and eating food and singing and reading ancient prayers and sitting in the warm glow of the fire and each other’s love. This was definitely something they should do again.

“Happy Hanukkah, angel.”

“Mazel tov, my darling.”