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Junior huffed as he looked around the attic. It wasn’t fair! Clem got to help Father in the orchard by catching bugs. He got stuck helping get the attic organized with the others. Azirafather was making lunch for all of them as well as unpacking some book boxes and get some odds and ends sorted.
“Okay,” Rosa said. “We should each take a quarter of the attic and we’ll be done in no time.”
Junior grunted. “Who made you boss?”
“Don’t you start!” Angelica growled. “No one likes this but we have to help Azirafather. He does a lot for us so we should help him.”
“I’d rather help Father,” Junior pouted.
“The faster we get started the faster we will get done,” Rosa said. “Angelica and I will take this half. You and Tura can do that side.”
Junior saluted her and snorted before following Datura to the far side of the attic. They began by stacking a few plastic crates. Azirafather had bought some extra crates to get things out of boxes and into proper storage. Datura sneezed and shook their head. They opened a box and peered in.
“Anthony!” they said. “Look! Look at all these old car magazines!”
“Those must be Father’s. Wanna look through them?” Junior said.
“Of course!” Datura answered sitting on the floor and opening the first magazine.
Junior dug around in the box and found a magazine. He sat next to Datura and soon they were deeply involved in the magazines, showing each other articles and pictures. It didn’t take them long to completely forget why they were in the attic.
“What are you DOING?” Angelica hissed. “You are supposed to be organizing, not reading car magazines!”
“Go back on your own side,” Junior told her. “Tura and I are busy.”
Angelica stomped across the attic, determined to get her and Rosa’s half done so they could do something fun while Junior and Tura were stuck in the attic. After looking through a few magazines, Tura carefully loaded the magazines into a crate and put it in a place that would be easy to get to in the future.
“Father and Azirafather have a lot of junk,” Junior said to no one in particular. “Where did this all come from?”
Rosa told him, “From the bookshop and from Father’s apartment. And it’s not junk. I’m sure it’s all very important to them.”
“Junk,” Junior insisted. “Hey! Look! It’s our first aquarium!”
“See? Not junk,” Rosa said.
Junior carefully moved the aquarium out of the way and opened a very dusty box. He pulled out a green spray bottle and an old red bucket. Reaching into the box, he pulled out a statue. It wasn’t heavy, just awkward. He placed it on top of a low stack of crates and looked at it.
“Whoa.”
“What did you find?” Datura asked, wiping their dirty hands on their jeans. Peering over Junior’s shoulder, Datura swallowed.
“Do you see what I think I’m seeing?” Junior murmured.
Datura nodded, staring, “It’s two angels . . . fighting?”
“I don’t think they are fighting,” Junior said softly. “They don't look mad. They look like they are . . . wrestling?”
“Rosa! Angelica!” Junior called. “Come here!”
“Now what?” Angelica asked as she approached. “You two are gonna be stuck . . . whoa. What’s that?”
“Yeah,” Junior said. “I found it in that box.”
Rosa came over and gasped when she saw the statue. “Junior! They’re . . . They’re . . . nude!”
“Who do you think it is?” Datura asked. “And why is it in our attic?”
Junior crouched to get to eye level with the statue. It wasn’t a terrible statue, but it was weird. The two angels were clearly struggling against each other, but they didn’t look angry. The one on the bottom had gold wings while the other’s wings were coppery. Coppery like . . .
“Oh, shit,” Junior whispered. “Oh, shit. Tura, look CLOSELY at it.”
“I don’t want to look any closer,” Datura said wrinkling their nose.
“Look!” Junior commanded.
Datura crouched next to him and looked. Their eyes widened as they looked at their brother. Junior nodded and sat back on his heels.
“The one on the bottom looks like . . . like . . . Azirafather,” Datura whispered.
“And the one on top looks like Father,” Junior added.
Angelica snorted. “You two are crazy.”
“Then you look, Miss Smarty Snake!” Junior snapped.
Angelica shoved Junior out of her way and crouched. She studied the statue, moving very close and looking at it then moving back and squinting. She cocked her head to one side and looked at it with one eye closed.
“The one on top doesn’t have glasses on. Father always wears his sunglasses,” she said, uncertainty in her voice.
“Picture him with sunglasses then!” Junior growled.
Angelica looked at it again. She had to admit it – the people in the statue did look like Father and Azirafather. But she really didn’t want to admit Junior was right. She looked at Datura.
“Tura,” she said softly. “He’s right. Rosa, you come look.”
“No,” Rosa said, turning her back. “And you all shouldn’t be looking either! It might be private!”
Junior asked, “Why would Azirafather ask us to clean up here if there was private stuff up here?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know it’s up here?” Rosa offered.
“How would he not know about . . . this?” Angelica said flinging one hand towards the statue.
“Azirafather would never have a statue like that!” Rosa said. “Would he?”
They all jumped when they heard Aziraphale’s voice. He climbed up to check how the job was going so far. Four sets of wide eyes gazed at him. The children tried blocking the statue with their bodies, ending up looking very suspicious. Aziraphale smiled at them.
“What’s going on over there?” he asked. “Find anything good?”
Junior stammered, “We found . . . We . . . Me and Tura, well me, mostly, found . . .”
Angelica stepped aside so Aziraphale could see the statue. “Azirafather? What are they doing?”
Aziraphale’s mouth fell open. He had no idea that statue had made its way to the South Downs. It had graced Crowley’s apartment and had made its way to the bookstore when they had moved in together – before the snabies came along. He had truly forgotten about it. That is, until right now. He figured that Crowley had gotten rid of it. Apparently not.
Aziraphale’s mouth was dry. He swallowed a few times and said, “I . . . I believe it is called ‘Evil Triumphs over Good.’ I don’t know the artist.”
“But what are they doing?” Angelica asked again.
“Wrestling,” Aziraphale told her. “How about if we take a break for lunch?”
“Where did it come from?” Junior asked.
Datura cocked their head to one side and said, “It must be hot where they are wrestling since they are naked and all.”
“Do all angels wrestle?” Angelica asked. “Did you and Father wrestle like that?”
“Angels are supposed to wear long white robes,” Rosa said. “Why are those angels . . . nude?”
Aziraphale pressed his lips together. He clapped his hands and said, “Lunch break. Come on, my loves. Let’s go eat. Father and Clem will be coming in soon.”
He crossed back to the collapsible stairs and began going down them. He froze when he heard Junior’s next question.
“How come those angels look like you and Father?”
He was mentally going through the ways he was going to kill Crowley when the demon came in for lunch. How could he bring that . . . thing into their house? It was okay when it was just them, but now that they had the children, well, it was completely inappropriate. He took a deep breath and steadied his voice.
“It is time for lunch. We’ll finish up afterwards.”
He led the children to the kitchen. They took their places at the table in awkward silence. Crowley came in through the mudroom with Clem around his shoulders. Five sets of eyes met him. His smile faltered a little and he washed his hands in the sink and sat down at the table. Clem slithered down and settled in Rosa’s lap.
“What,” he finally said.
“The children were helping organize the attic,” Aziraphale said softly.
“Such good spawn,” Crowley said. “What’s for lunch?”
Junior blurted out, “I found a statue of two naked angels wrestling and they look like you and Azirafather.”
“Nude,” Rosa corrected.
“Shut up,” Junior said. “Father, is that you and Azirafather? Did you used to wrestle with each other? Naked?”
Crowley looked at Aziraphale who looked both mortified and angry, but mostly mortified. He started putting food on his plate. He chuckled then looked up at the children.
“He he he. Can you see your Azirafather wrestling? With me? No, spawn. It’s just a statue that I ordered one night.”
“Why?” Datura asked.
Crowley shrugged. “I don’t know. I just liked it.”
“Then why was it in the attic?” Angelica asked. “If you like it, it should be down here.”
Crowley snorted. “With you lot running around? It would never survive. Anyway, it doesn’t go with our new house. Truthfully, I forgot about it.”
“Why are they nude?” Rosa asked.
“Because it’s art,” Crowley told her. “That’s how art works.”
Lunch was very quiet as everyone was deep in their own thoughts. Once they were done eating, Crowley sent the children outside to gather sticks in the orchard. He cleared the table while Aziraphale started washing dishes. Crowley stood next to his angel with a dish towel, ready to dry. They were quiet for a few moments.
“Crowley, . . .” Aziraphale began.
“Angel, I swear, I totally forgot about that thing. You have to believe me. I’d never . . . I’d never do anything that would upset or embarrass you.”
Aziraphale sighed, “I know, my dear. I know. But I didn’t know what to say. They asked so many questions and kept asking if that was us. I didn’t know what to say.”
“They’re going to ask questions, angel,” Crowley murmured as he began drying the dishes. “We just have to be open and honest with them.”
“And age appropriate,” Aziraphale added.
“Agreed.”
They continued washing and drying the dishes. After everything was put away, Crowley pulled the angel close. He kissed his nose gently.
“I’ll get rid of it if you want me to,” Crowley told him.
Aziraphale shook his head. “No. But it has to stay in the attic. And you will answer any further questions.”
“Deal.”
Crowley gently nuzzled the angel’s neck, giving him tiny, soft kisses. Aziraphale tipped his head back and buried his fingers in Crowley’s hair.
“So,” the demon purred. “Wanna wrestle tonight?”
Before the angel could answer, the back door banged open. Junior and Datura tromped into the kitchen, blushing at walking in on their fathers being affectionate.
“Father? We have another question,” Junior said.
Crowley sighed, “Yes, spawn?”
“Can Tura and I have that box of car magazines that’s in the attic?”
Crowley grinned and hugged his angel tightly. “Of course, spawn.”