Chapter Text
Aziraphale opens the door and the familiar smell of old vinyl and warm air wafts through his senses. He breathes in and sighs “Hello Maggie, I got your note”. His eyes wander lovingly around Maggie’s record shop, he loves this shop. Almost as much as he loves his own book shop. But then his eyes flicker to Maggie as she chokes up a hot sob. “Oh you're crying”.
“I'm not” Maggie croaks.
“Do you actually think you aren't, because…”
“I know I’m crying. That's just… a thing you say”
“Oh” Aziraphale pauses “Shall I… give you a hug?”
Maggie rolls her eyes at Aziraphale, red raw and puffy. But she's half-smiling at Aziraphale's complete lack of understanding. He’s the best and the worst best friend she’s ever had. He’s usually quite anti-hugs and affection, probably because he’s never received much in the way of hugs and touches in his life.
Aziraphale has been alone for a long time, no family that Maggie has ever met. And it’s a sore spot. She gave up pushing him on the subject years ago, as he did with her. He’s a private person, that’s just who he is. So if he’s offering a hug now, then… then she really must be a mess.
Aziraphale crosses the little room and pulls her into an attempt of a soothing embrace, a hand stroking her back but actually tickling her in the process. This feels… awkward.
“Honestly, Aziraphale, we’ve been besties for what? Seven years now? And you still look like a deer caught in headlights around me, sometimes” Maggie scoffs and dabs at her eyes. She reaches for a tissue.
“Besties?”
“Yes BFFs”
“What?” Aziraphale wrinkles his nose at her and their eyes meet in mutual confusion.
Maggie scoffs “Oh come onnnnn, Az”
He laughs “You know I don't know much about slang, darling” he tilts Maggie's head up gently with one finger and winks. He raises his eyebrows animatedly “Or women”
“I know you don’t… oh never mind”
He’s made her giggle for a moment and that feels like a better dynamic between the two of them. Aziraphale isn’t lying, he knows nothing about women. Especially crying women. They make him very uncomfortable. Lucky for him, his best friend Mags is the happy go lucky sort. Always good natured, bubbly and giggly so their personalities mesh well together. Well, almost always.
“Oh Mags. Let me pop the kettle on and you can tell me all about it”
Aziraphale goes straight to the kitchenette in Maggie's back room and Maggie follows.
“Do you know much about men?” She teases “you’re as single as I am”
“Did you call me over to insult me?” Aziraphale laughs “Though I take your point. But we're not talking about me, darling, we're talking about you. Is this about Nina?”
“Yes, well I finally gathered up the courage to ask her out”
Aziraphale's face lights up “...and?”
“And she already has a partner”
“Oh”
“And I'm pretty sure I'm in love”
“Oh Mags” Aziraphale hugs her properly this time and Maggie exhales, her eyes brimming with tears “At least you can move on now, dearest”
“Aziraphale?” Maggie pulls back and frowns “when was the last time you were in love?”
“I can't really remember” and that's the truth. Aziraphale gave up looking for ‘the one’ years ago. Content with his life of fine food and book collecting. Romance is for novels, he told himself long ago.
“I can’t just move on. I can't stop thinking about her”
“But Mags, she has a partner” Aziraphale looks taken aback “Is this why you slipped a note under my door, because I don’t think I’m the best at…”
“No it isn't. I need a different favour” Maggie wipes the corner of her eyes with a tissue and Aziraphale tries out a comforting pat.
“Anything darling. What can I do?” He looks at her with the fondness of someone trying so desperately to be comforting but not knowing how. He wants to be a good friend to Maggie in her time of need, though it’s not something he knows how to do. Aziraphale just isn't... good at this. He prefers to keep any of his own emotional displays safely behind closed doors. Sure, he tells Maggie if he’s having a bad day and she’ll bring him a latte with a hefty jigger of almond syrup and maybe an Eccles cake, but that's where the sharing stops. That’s the dynamic he likes.
Maggie used to be somewhat the same, until Nina bought the coffee shop. Then she changed. Not in a bad way, just in a way that gave the new coffee matron over the road, the power to shift her mood from obscenely happy, to the end of the world in an instant.
For the last few weeks Aziraphale has watched Mags every morning, cross the road for her daily Nina visits and he’d brace himself for the reaction. It was proving to be quite mentally exhausting. How one person could hold so much power over another without knowing it. Aziraphale is glad he doesn’t have that in his life. He gave up on that kind of thing years ago.
“I'm wondering if you'll come with me… to South Downs… for my aunt's birthday meal?”
“Sure” Aziraphale says, a little perplexed by the question, but it’s something he can do, absolutely. Despite not having a family of his own or many friends, Aziraphale is still quite the confident conversationalist. He’s friendly, he's always been a good talker and has introduced Maggie to many of the locals over the years.
“Oh good”
“Anything for you, Mags” he smiles and hands her a cup of tea.
She pushes a little further “Well I should probably tell you a little more about it”
“Sure, go ahead” He looks at her dubiously. Maybe that was too easy.
“We’ll need to get the train down, and I’m not sure what time the last train is, so we may end up staying over”
Aziraphale looks at Maggie, like she’s holding something back.
“But they have a big house and you’ll be alright bunking with me for a night, right?”
“Oh Mags, I’m not sure” And he isn’t sure. It’s been some time since he bunked with, well… anybody. Probably college. Aziraphale is a creature of habit, with a bedtime routine and morning ritual. Like a toddler, he can’t handle things very well when he hasn’t got that routine in place.
“It’s just, I’m thinking of coming out”
Oh
“And I could use a friend”
“Yes of course, of course I’ll be there! Oh Mags, yes, I had no idea... yes. How are you, are you worried?” Such a daft question that Aziraphale will kick himself for later. But he has little to no experience of this. Sure, he’s queer, but he’s never had to come out to anyone he’s ever cared about. His family were long gone by the time he recognised those feelings, enough to talk about them anyway. And since then, many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, and nobody ever expected suspected him of being anything different.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d care. But I get ‘biological clock’ ticking comments and all sorts now I’m nearly 40. So... I'm thinking, maybe it’s time? What do you think?”
“I think we should get comfy and you can tell me everything you’re thinking”
~~~
“... So you know they bring you those plates full of sliced oranges at the end? They're meant to be a ‘palate cleanser’” Tracey holds up her fingers in an air quote “Well I must have been talking whilst Adam ate them. Well I say ‘ate’ he sucked out all the juice”
“Yeah, 'cause they’re horrible. I just like the juice” Adam quips from behind his phone.
“Well he put them back on the plate and then Shadwell here, picked the same ones up and ate them, then he said… he said” Aunt Tracey holds back her laughter, poorly “He picked up a slice and he said” She puts on a comically loud Scottish accent and blows her cheeks out “Ir ye kidding me? Thes ‘es been chewed”
The entire table erupts into laughter, including Maggie and Aziraphale who sit at the large round table surrounded by Maggie's family; Mrs Sandwich - her aunt and Tracey's sister, Shadwell - Tracey's boyfriend and Adam and Muriel - her kids. All of them clearly enjoying Tracey’s story apart from Shadwell who stands up to clear the plates. Tracey shushes everyone and winks. They’d had far too much to drink for a Sunday night, not that any of them have work the next day.
Aziraphale doesn’t care that much about opening the shop, so he doesn't mind that they've missed the last train home. He can open a little later tomorrow, it's fine. He prefers not to sell his books if he can help it. Just enough to keep himself in business. Besides he told Maggie he’d stay over if needs be and she keeps grabbing onto him more than he is used to. It's making him feel rather pink in the cheeks.
Maggie doesn’t have a high tolerance for alcohol, always telling Aziraphale she doesn’t like the taste whenever he offers her a glass of red. But here she is, visibly flushed, on her fourth glass of Bucks Fizz, pawing at him like he’s her main sense of comfort.
Is she almost ready? Aziraphale watches on as the lovely people around him laugh and jibe with each other, all in good faith. They clearly love one another and they love Maggie. Throughout the night he's spoken to Maggie’s Aunt Tracey in great length about seances and tarot cards. She comes across as a little batty, but so very sweet with her bright red hair and the largest set of fake lashes Aziraphale has ever seen.
Then there’s her boyfriend, Shadwell, Scottish as they come and part of 'an army of witch finders'. Though Aziraphale suspects he’s an army of one. After all, the man is clearly as batty as Tracey is, asking him to declare how many nipples he has when they first sat down to dinner. Luckily, Tracey pulled him into the kitchen before Aziraphale could even comprehend his question and he had never felt so grateful.
Then Maggie’s other Aunt, Mrs Sandwich, sat with him and asked about his job. He’d forgotten her first name, very embarrassing, but at least he remembered her last name. Who could forget a name like that? They chatted for a while and got along fantastically. Aziraphale loves her already. They talked mostly about Soho. She told him that she used to have a shop in Soho herself when she was younger. She was ‘a seamstress’ and she tapped the side of her nose, making Aziraphale laugh.
Honestly, when they arrived, Aziraphale felt like he’d landed in the looney bin. He was the most average person in the room, besides Maggie. He wondered how she’d grown up so normal. But now, as they settle in, he realises her family are the most warm welcoming people he’s met in a long time, each of them fascinating. Aziraphale wants nothing more than to get to know them.
“Away wi’ ye, scarlet woman, Jezebel!”
“Oh Mr Shadwell you say the nicest things” Tracey pecks him on the cheek and Shadwell tries to hide how much he likes it.
They’re a strange couple but they work , Aziraphale thinks as he looks around the table and everyone laughs at Shadwell fondly. He’d never heard ‘jezebel’ be used as a term of endearment before, it is quite eye opening. Yet that must be their dynamic? And yet he suddenly finds himself smiling with them too.
“Is it time for presents?” Muriel beams as Tracey stands up from her chair swaying in a drunken haze.
“Muriel, you’re my present” she fumbles over to Muriel's chair planting a clumsy kiss on the crown of Muriel's head and then doing the same to Adam who winces from behind his phone.
“No, It's time for cake” Mrs Sandwich winks at everyone cheekily and disappears into the kitchen with a delighted wiggle.
“Aziraphale, get the lights” she claps him on the back with a strong hand that makes him stutter his drink.
“Right-o” he says as he searches and eventually finds the switch, plunging the room into darkness with ‘ooees’ and ‘ahhhs’.
Then the entire room breaks out into song, and he joins in, singing Happy Birthday as the glow of the candles appear from the kitchen. Not a single person in this room can carry a tune, save for Aziraphale, yet he finds it completely charming.
To see all the faces beam in the candle light, especially Muriel who does a clappy dance little number bobbing from foot to foot. Tracey's cherub-like daughter looks nothing like her or Adam, and Aziraphale wonders if, maybe, she’s adopted?
That's what they do here. Bring people in and treat them like they're family. Such a lovely thought. They’ve all made Aziraphale feel incredibly welcome, so unlike Aziraphale's extended family, or what he remembers of them. Maggie's family is a real family. Salt of the Earth.
It fills his heart with a warm fuzzy feeling as Maggie clasps his arm to check in on him. He’s stopped singing. Maybe he isn't akin to hiding the emotions playing all over his face as much as he thought? He smiles at her as Tracey announces “What are these?”
She pulls a candle out of the cake, still lit, and pushes it into Mrs Sandwich’s face.
“Careful with that love, I've had a lot of hairspray. You know what it is, you’ve seen enough of ‘em” they laugh together.
“Is that a penis candle?” Maggie asks, plucking it off her.
“Yeah, knob candles. I ordered them online ‘specially for our Trace”
Aziraphale practically chokes on his own saliva as the entire table once again erupts into laughter. There’s clearly some kind of inside joke here, he isn’t privy to.
“Now, it's a party!” Tracey drums the table with her hands and Shadwell grumbles. Tracey and Mrs Sandwich cackle at each other, in a way only sister's understand. Aziraphale can't take his eyes away from them. They’re the most interesting people he’s met in a long time.
“Been a while since you've seen one, Mags?” Mrs Sandwich laughs and Mags shoots her a glance, tutting. Aziraphale touches Maggie's arm in a soothing gesture wondering when she plans to break the news. He doesn't want to remind her of her plans but he just wants her to know he’s there, whenever she's ready.
As he sits there, he can't help but think about the family's reactions. He didn't feel any judgement from them when they greeted him. Well maybe a little from Shadwell, but the rest were… are positively lovely. They seem like the accepting kind. Maybe tonight will surprise Maggie?
“Yer doolally if you think 'm eating that now!” Shadwell looks at the phallus shaped candles with disdain and Maggie giggles.
“Oh, Mr Shadwell” Tracey bats her long fake lashes “why don't I make us all a niiiice cuppa tea?”
“No, Auntie Tracey, you sit, I’ll do it” Maggie smiles and grabs Aziraphale's hand, tugging him into the kitchen. He quickly dabs his lips with a napkin and drops it on the table, following.
“Nine sugars!” Shadwell shouts after them.
In the kitchen, Aziraphale takes both of Maggie's wrists and circles his thumbs on her in a grounding motion. So, he doesn't quite have experience of affection but he's read about things like this before. Maggie looks pale, eyes glazed over. Her breath comes in hitches. “You don't have to do this now, if you don't want to” Aziraphale says, searching her face to read her thoughts. God, he's terrible at this. He's starting to panic, himself.
“I want to” she says as she meets his gaze nervously and manages a small smile “I’m scared though”
Aziraphale presses his thumbs into her wrists reassuringly “I'm here for you”. They stand together for a few moments, listening to the sounds of laughter from the other room. “You're sure?” Aziraphale presses once more and she gives a slight nod without looking at him.
“Yep, it’s now or never” Maggie pops the 'p' with an air of confidence. She turns to face the door “hold my hand?” She looks at Aziraphale, and breathes deeply.
“Y-yes, of course, darling” and he takes her hand in his, giving her a fond squeeze as his hand cups her clammy palm, determined to be the best, best friend he can be in this moment and face it all with her. He feels obviously nervous, trembling by her side. No matter how they react, this is an incredibly vulnerable moment for Maggie. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s way out of his skill set to be… this… for another person. Someone to rely on.
Maybe he’s overthinking it? Maybe it’ll be great and they'll accept her news with open arms? There’s only one way to find out. Maggie shakes Aziraphale out of his thoughts squeezing his hand so tight his fingers are turning blue. She breathes in and steps forward taking Aziraphale with her. He needs to be completely present for her, so he straightens up and offers her a gentle nod, smiling and willing silent strength to her.
“Aunt Trace…” she manages before she’s cut off by Mrs Sandwich who looks down at their clasped hands and back up in shock.
“I knew it!” Mrs Sandwich laughs, clapping her hands together and hugging them both, one at a time.
“Knew what?” Maggie asks, eyes flashing between them.
“Though why you felt like you had to hide it, is beyond me!”
“Oh” Maggie's face and shoulders relax. She looks at Aziraphale and he looks at her. He smiles. They know. They’ve known all along. This is good.
“Hide what?” Muriel asks.
“Maggie and Aziraphale are dating” she turns to the room “that's why she brought him here tonight… to meet the family!”
“WHAT???” Muriel squeals and jumps excitedly “MAGGIE AND AZIRAPHALE?”
Aziraphale's jaw hits the floor and he looks to Maggie frantically, who looks back at him. She isn’t breathing. Neither of them are.
“No, noooo” he says, dropping Maggie's hand quickly. He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something. She doesn’t respond. She can’t speak and neither can he. They stare at each other for what feels like a millennia, Aziraphale’s pulse thumping away in his ears as the distant sound of happy squeals gets louder and surrounds them.
In the end Maggie looks around at her family. “Yes” she squeaks and the family are over to them in an instant. Maggie presses a kiss to a horrified Aziraphale's cheek and he stands there completely rigid, unable to move, to speak.
He looks up, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ like his life has suddenly gone into slow motion. A laughing Mrs Sandwich bounds towards him and plants a kiss on his other cheek, leaving a bright pink lipstick smudge. What the fuck??? Tracey leaps to the other side of him, mussing his hair. My god. What is Maggie thinking? He's completely unprepared for this… onslaught.
He feels all of sudden like a boa constrictor has wrapped themselves around his chest, squeezing, he might pass out. He looks down to find Muriel, arms wrapped around him, hugging him. There are too many people, and perfumes, and sounds around him. He’s going to sneeze. He looks over to Maggie who looks back pleadingly.
“Give the man some air” Tracey smiles, taking Muriel's hand. He’s eternally grateful for Tracey, this evening.
“Adam, isn't it wonderful news?” Muriel runs over and pulls one of his earphones out.
“What?”
“About Auntie Maggie and Aziraphale, they're in love”
Aziraphale once again... cannot breathe. He chokes on his own saliva and looks to Mags who puts a hand on his arm. They’re both shaking.
“Really? I thought Aziraphale’s gay” Adam says so casually.
Maggie's eyes go wide and she pushes Aziraphale into the kitchen. The family laughs off Adam's comments and shake their heads, covering for the kid, as Aziraphale retreats backwards, ushered away by Maggie's palms. Once in the kitchen, he feels the panic take over. His breathing quickens. He reaches for the cold water tap, grasping to turn it on, as Maggie paces up and down behind him. He fumbles for a glass on the counter and fills it. He swallows, gulping down the freezing cold liquid. Some of it dribbling down his chin. He gasps between swallows, the terror rising in his throat.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry” Maggie puts a hand on his shoulder and he flinches.
“Maggie?” Is all he can breathe, as he reaches his wet hands to his forehead.
“What do we do?” She looks at him, panic in her eyes “I guess we can pretend to be a couple for one night”
“Jesus, Maggie” Aziraphale frowns as he turns to face her. The kitchen door opens and it’s Muriel. To Aziraphale’s complete amazement, Maggie throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He grips the sink behind him to keep himself upright. This is insane. He couldn't have pressed his hips any further into the counter if he tried. They look at Muriel, each with a wide insane smile plastered across their faces. In hindsight they must have looked terrifying to the poor teenager.
“I came to see if you needed any help with the tea…” Muriel falters by the door. They quickly look away to the mugs on the side looking very uncomfortable. “I didn't mean to interrupt an intimate moment”
Aziraphale looks at Maggie. She cocks her head to the side asking him to wordlessly play along. But he can’t. He doesn't know how to. He’s still in shock. Her eyes plead with his, but he just stares, a million thoughts running through his head, then she digs her finger into his side to prompt a reaction in his glazed over expression. It works, but not to the desired effect. He lurches forward and accidentally headbutts her.
“Owww” they each sigh and touch their heads. And when their eyes meet this apparently breaks whatever tension they were under, as they’re laughing. Aziraphale has no idea what’s going on anymore.
To a fly on the wall this entire situation is equal parts hilarious and equal parts incredulous. Aziraphale lowers his forehead to Maggie's shoulder, his body shaking with laughter and nervousness as Maggie claps her hand on the back of his head. In another lifetime, they could have made a good couple. They get on wonderfully and they’re so alike. But in this lifetime, they’re more like brother and sister… and neither of them are straight.
They look to find Muriel still standing there squinting with confusion at them. Tracey walks in and Maggie grabs Aziraphale's hand quickly, clumsily intertwining their fingers and grinning.
Tracey coos and her eyes dart to Muriel who’s staring intently at the mugs on the side.
“Muriel, why’re you in here? Leave these two lovebirds alone” she says with a playful wink towards Aziraphale. Uncomfortable, he plasters a grin on his face.
“I didn't see anything, mum” Muriel says, still staring at the mugs. They head for the door, fumbling “I just came in to… have a quick look at a cupperty”. Poor freaked out child.
And they leave “Kids ey?” Tracey laughs and pinches Maggie and Aziraphale’s cheeks. “Gosh you two have made my birthday special!”
“Don't say that” Maggie replies sheepishly.
“Oh but you have, dear” Tracey turns to Aziraphale “I worry about her being alone you know. But now she's got you. You’ve made an old softie like me very happy”
Aziraphale looks between them sharply.
“You've got to tell me how it happened. Was it love at first sight?” Tracey smiles at Aziraphale, so close their noses are practically touching. He’s feeling lightheaded again. Maybe it’s her perfume. He looks down at his and Maggie's adjoined fingers. He can’t feel them. He’s numb, he’s… trembling.
“Trace!” A voice calls from the other room and she twists a finger twisting in both their faces “This isn’t over, I want to hear all about it” and she leaves. Aziraphale and Maggie exhale.
“How do we do this?” Maggie lets go of Aziraphale’s hand, now completely hot and sweaty with nerves, but forthright in her question.
And Aziraphale is terrified that she’s even contemplating this “What do you mean ‘how do we do this?’ Mags you need to tell them the truth!”
“You heard my aunt, Aziraphale. I can’t do this to her. Not on her birthday”
“Mag’s you shouldn’t have lied in the first place”
“Az, please. Please play along, just for tonight”
“No, Mags, it isn't right. I can’t lie to your family” At this point the conversation devolves into quick angry whispers on Aziraphale’s part “Besides, I’m a terrible liar. They whoop that out of you in Catholic school”
“Please, Aziraphale”
“Mags I can’t” He looks at her, sympathising with her situation. And it’s the truth, he can’t. Aziraphale doesn’t have a dishonest bone in his body and he can’t lie to these lovely people whether he wants to or not. Not even for Mags. Not even… to protect her secret?
He can feel himself softening. He reasons with her “Mags, you heard Adam in there. Even if I tried to, even for you, it wouldn’t be believable would it? It’s not like I’m good at ‘being a couple’. I quite feel we scared poor Muriel half to death then”
“I know” she laughs and flashes a side smile at him.
“Oh don’t look at me like that” He softens once more and can’t help but smile back “Mags I love you, but not like that”
“I know!” Maggie snorts “Just this one time though? You won’t have to do it again, please?”
“I’m not doing it now”
“Please, Aziraphale. I don’t think I can face any more embarrassment tonight. Please, PLEASE, for me?” He looks at her with a defeated expression “Just for tonight, just a few hours? I’ll buy you one of those chocolate fondant cakes you love, when we get home”
“Oh for heaven's sake, fine.” He looks at her and she hugs him “It best be a large one!”
Sometime later Aziraphale sits with the family in their living room as he sips his tea. It wasn’t so bad after they got the awkward questions out of the way and he didn’t have to lie. He told the truth of where and how he met Maggie, and they asked what he liked most about her, which was easy enough to answer. After all, they had been close friends for years. He hadn’t fibbed at all and he didn’t have to.
And he’s now back to enjoying himself once more, but with a newfound closeness. He’s being treated like family, and it’s lovely. It’s overwhelmingly lovely. Muriel declares loudly it’s ‘present time’ and Tracey accepts gifts left, right and centre, loving them all.
He watches on in wonder as Muriel hands Tracey hand crafted tarot cards they’d made themselves. Aziraphale watches as Muriel beams with pride and Tracey wells up. This is what birthdays are all about. He can feel himself welling up too, or maybe it’s the residual effects of the wine in his system.
Shadwell, despite his brash demeanour, bought Tracey a romantic trip for two, in a canal boat on the Thames. She kisses him and he can see Shadwell smile and look at her like she’s the only person in the room for a moment, before he returns to his brash persona.
Aziraphale smiles to himself. He’s enjoying the love flowing through this room. His best friend beside him. Her family, all around him. Showing each other how much they care for each other. He feels warm and peaceful, and the guilt gets pushed further aside in favour of living in the moment.
A real family. That night, they played charades, they played cards ‘Chase the Ace’ and Aziraphale won every time. As the night continued, they’d excused themselves one by one to go to bed, until only Muriel, Tracey, Maggie and Aziraphale are now left, polishing off the last bottle of wine in front of the large open fire of Tracey’s cottage.
Muriel yawns, and Tracey kisses their forehead.
“Up to bed with you” she says and Muriel picks herself up and walks towards the stairs. The entire downstairs cottage is open plan and the front door opens up into the living room, leading straight up to the stairs.
“Crowley!” Muriel shouts happily as the newcomer fumbles with his jacket and the door closes behind him. Muriel throws her arms around the tall figure, who currently has his back to Aziraphale, in the living room. Aziraphale looks but it’s dark. He can’t see much in the glow of the firelight and his wine filled haze. It’s nearly midnight, way past the time he usually goes to bed.
“I told you I wouldn’t miss mum’s birthday, kiddo” the newcomer laughs and lifts them up. Aziraphale watches as the man stalks toward Tracey with a big bunch of flowers in front of his face. He has ridiculously tight trousers on, Aziraphale notes with a disapproving squint.
“Happy birthday, mum” The figure leans to kiss Tracey and Aziraphale catches a shock of red hair.
He polishes off his wine and just about hears Tracey reply “Thanks love. Oh, Anthony, you’re just in time. Meet Aziraphale” she whispers the next part “Maggie's boyfriend”
Aziraphale sputters. ‘Maggie’s boyfriend?’ It’s hard to hear, especially when it’s an outright lie. He just doesn’t like lies, even if it’s only for tonight and he’ll be back in the safety of his bookshop tomorrow afternoon. Maggie puts a hand to his leg. Equally as weird. Aziraphale’s head can’t form any coherent thoughts other than embarrassment. And then Aziraphale lowers his glass and their eyes meet for the first time.
“Hi, Azir-a-phale, is it?”
“Golly” The air around Aziraphale crackles. Crowley smiles at him and Aziraphale clears his throat, he grabs Maggie’s hand.
“I mean… hello”