fandomweekly | [#033] Christmas Eve Prophecies (Good Omens)

Theme Prompt: #033 – Family Gatherings
Title: Christmas Eve Prophecies
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Pure fluff in which Crowley and Aziraphale join multiple other characters for a festive feast, and Crowley has the future on his mind.

"I'd rather stick hot pins under my fingernails."

Aziraphale gave him that "must you be so dramatic" look.

"I already said I'd go. And I would hate to spend Christmas Eve without you ..."

How was Crowley supposed to resist that imploring gaze?

"Oh alright, Angel. But I'm not bringing gifts. Do I look like bloody Santa Claus?"

Aziraphale's smile could have melted a solid ice block. Crowley sighed. It was probably worth a couple of hours' torture just for that smile.

He was re-evaluating that stance a week later as he pulled the Bentley to a stop outside Anathema's cottage.

"A Christmas jumper, really? You've been wearing the same coat and waistcoat since before the invention of the steam engine and now you're ... you're."

He gestured vaguely at the tasteful but undeniably festive cream jumper adorned with faint golden snowflakes.

"I'm still wearing the coat."

Aziraphale pointed out reasonably as he got out of the car and tucked his arm through Crowley's as they approached the door.

"Anathema."

Crowley greeted their host smoothly, though little waves of sarcasm rippled to the surface.

"Hardly expected a witch to celebrate Christmas."

"Hardly expected a demon to turn up."

She rejoined tartly, smacking Crowley's wandering hand away from the bowl of candy canes in the hall.

"Those are decorations!"

Crowley sighed as if that were the most ridiculous idea he'd ever heard, but couldn't resist a smile when he saw the unlikely gang gathered around the table. Newt was positioned out of arm's reach of Anathema's tablet, from which issued honey-smooth old fashioned Christmas songs. Just as well. He'd only blow it up if he touched it. Madame Tracy looked very festive, wearing a jumper festooned with Christmas trees. Shadwell looked the same as always - as if he was eating a slice of lemon dipped in salt. The Them were bickering as only four eleven-year olds can, good natured but each utterly intent on being right.

"Hello dear lady!"

Aziraphale sat beside Madame Tracy and the two of them immediately fell to laughing over the time the angel had taken possession of her body in order to help stop the world's ending, after his own had been discorporated. Something sharp pulled at Crowley's insides, and for a split second he was back in a burning bookstore, believing Aziraphale to be lost forever. But he was here now, looking sweeter than ever as he greeted Adam and Pepper, Brian and Wensleydale, and started entertaining them with quite possibly the most inept card trick known to man.

When Anathema pressed a glass of mulled wine into his hand with a whispered "thought you'd need this" Crowley couldn't help laughing, taking a delicious spiced swig. Newt got up to help Anathema, and suddenly the table was groaning under the weight of turkey and all the trimmings, with tart cranberry and soft sweet Camembert pastry parcels for the vegetarians. Aziraphale looked delighted with such a feast, and suddenly Crowley found the centre of his chest felt warm. Must be the wine.

It seemed impossible that anyone should have room for more after such a feast, yet somehow they all managed a helping of Christmas pudding, brought flaming to the table like something out of a Dickens novel. Adam managed two helpings, and found the silver sixpence. "Luck of the antichrist laddie" Shadwell teased him, while Pepper demanded to know where Anathema had found such an old coin.

As they were practically falling asleep over coffee, Anathema brought out her box of Agnes' prophecies.

"I only burned the new ones" she explained with a wry grin. "Kept these ones. My family has a tradition of picking a prophecy each Christmas, to see what Agnes has to say about their year ahead."

"So while other families pull crackers and argue over what to watch on TV, you read ancient prophecies that will most likely come true, even the terrible ones?"

Crowley laughed. Anathema laughed too as she put the box in the middle of the table.

"Yep. What can I say? Prophecies don't stop for the holidays."

With that she nudged the box towards Crowley who looked at it like it might explode at any moment. But the kids were looking at him expectantly and honestly it was nice to see them so happy and how could he channel Scrooge in the face of all that optimism? He took a card. Read it twice. And shoved it back in the box, face flaming, refusing to disclose the contents. There may have even been a tiny demonic miracle involved in steering the conversation away from him.

The rest of the night passed in shared reminiscing about the time they all stopped the apocalypse, and laughing together like old friends. Crowley had to admit, it was pleasant being around people who knew what he was and didn't care. At some point during the evening he'd even taken off his sunglasses, secretly delighted that everyone present could look at his snake eyes and no more pass comment than they did on Aziraphale's pale hair or Anathema's jingle bell earrings.

It was only as they stepped arm in arm out into the chilly night, snowflakes swirling around them, that Aziraphale gave him a curious look.

"What was that about, dear boy?"

Crowley thought of the prophecy he'd sneakily tucked into his pocket, beside the diamond and platinum ring in the shape of two wings, that he was keeping for the perfect moment.

"1487. When that the serpent knoweth in his hart the question his lips must ask, he shall nevere rest until he hath asketh it."

"Shall I drive you home, Angel?"

Was all he said, his stomach fluttering with nerves so that he barely noticed how distracted Aziraphale seemed as he nodded and kissed him softly before getting into the Bentley. Little did Crowley know the Angel was thinking of his own prophecy.

"2034. Thy demon hath waited these six thousand years, foolish principaltee. When he asketh, thou had better say yes!"