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It was a windy day, and the soft glow of a halo shone through the gathering storm as a hand placed the jack of hearts over the entrance to an old collapsed warren in the earth.
“He was a remarkable rabbit. Always jumped from the hat with perfect—perfect aplomb, you know. He was so fond of sweet clover, and he would eat biscuit crumbs out of my hand when he was hardly more than a bit of fuzz. Oh Harry, I’ll miss you terribly.”
Aziraphale brushed away several glistening tears. Crowley made a heroic effort not to roll his eyes, patted him on the shoulder, and refrained from mentioning the several times Aziraphale’s own antics nearly caused Harry the Rabbit to take a premature departure.
“Real first-rate bunny, that one,” Crowley mumbled, and let Aziraphale half-nuzzle, half-sob into his shoulder.
***
“I suppose I’ll have to get another rabbit, if the show’s to go on,” Aziraphale said a few weeks later, sitting on the balcony above his bookshop. “One, ideally, with a penchant for the stage.”
It was a fine evening, with a dusting of smoggy stars that looked rather like the beleaguered sequins on the tablecloth Aziraphale used for concealing his purported sleights of hand.
“I mean, you don’t have to keep the magic act going,” Crowley muttered into his Merlot.
“But I can’t simply abandon it all, dear, surely you must see that.”
“Look, there’s no need to convince anyone you can work magic. Or, for that matter,” Crowley’s voice became honeyed, “that you’ve got exceedingly skilled fingers.”
Aziraphale turned pink and emitted a sound midway between a giggle and a hiccup.
“I really thought I was getting a better handle on the illusions, that’s all,” he said, pouting a little.
Crowley knocked back the rest of his glass and circled his finger around the edge so it produced an eerie sound. “Pity you don’t need a snake assistant, eh angel?” he joked.
Aziraphale’s sudden realization was so glowing it seemed to be an overflow of ichor.
“Oh, Crowley, that’s simply brilliant! You can be my new assistant!”
“ What? Oh no, nope, that was not serious.”
“You’d look so nice against the velvet, and I can get the red ribbon for the top hat—”
“Angel, believe me when I say Harry hated me and I would be an utter disgrace to his memory and also people will probably think I ate him—”
“But you’ve got such presence, such charisma , really, Crowley, it could be just the ticket—”
“Aziraphale, I’m sorry, I love you desperately, but there’s nothing in this whole bloody Universe you can do that would make me agree to be in your magic act.”
***
“Just so we’re clear,” Crowley said from his seat on Aziraphale’s head underneath a teetering top hat, “Any failures, flops, and potential fatalities are your responsibility and yours alone.”
“Nonsense, dear, just please hold tight to the king of diamonds, will you?”
“I can’t believe I’m working as a literal magician’s assistant and I don’t even get a cool costume with spangles on it.”
“Well Crowley, I’m afraid you are rather pre-spangled when you’re like this. Now remember, I’m going to pass you the two of clubs and you’re going to be careful not to leave any bite marks on it.”
Crowley stuck his tongue out at Aziraphale’s left ear, and Aziraphale ignored him.
During the show, Crowley received the two of spades, and silently cajoled the suit into changing its shape.
***
“It’s really an honor to introduce—my, what’s that you’ve got there, young lady? Ah, a squirt gun, is it? Well, if you wouldn’t mind standing down, then we can start the show.”
There was an inelegant wrangling of stage props that made preadolescent thumbs itch for phone keyboards, then the pulling of a plastic trigger.
“Oh! Excuse me, young lady, does your mother know you’re carrying that dreadful thing about dousing stage professionals? Oh, oh dear, please excuse Anthony rearing up like that, he’s not actually going to strike. He’s just been a bit tetchy since he tried to quit smoking.”
That, at least, got a laugh from a parent in the back.
“It’s you, an all-powerful entity, being menaced by kids with squirt guns that’s driving me to this, you know,” Crowley said afterwards, activating the lighter with a flick of his tail.
***
If there was one part of the job Crowley actually liked, it was scaring the absolute Hell out of his young audiences. This was accomplished first by lunging forward and flashing his snakiest smile, and, if that failed to do the trick, by Aziraphale “commanding the wily serpent to speak.”
Crowley felt a bit self-conscious about his hissing, at first, but it seemed to delight everyone watching that he “talked like you’d imagine a snake would talk.” Anyway, the hissing wasn’t nearly as severe as the first time he’d asked Aziraphale on a proper date.
Aziraphale agreed not to make him say anything too wholesome, and Crowley agreed not to swear or chant demonic incantations in front of the children.
***
“It’s not such a bad act, really—much better now you’ve got me in it,” Crowley was saying after a little village square show as Aziraphale was folding a set of silk scarves. “Seriously, I don’t think you need another trick.”
“Oh, but I think I’m finally at a point where we can try something really spectacular ,” Aziraphale said. He looked ridiculous in that eyeliner mustache. Crowley wanted to kiss him badly, but he was rather preoccupied with getting out of the teapot he’d been coiled up in as part of the final trick.
“Angel, you dropped the coin you hid up your own sleeve again.”
“Ah, thank you, dear. Crowley, how do you feel about being bisected?”
“Aziraphale, I’ve gotta say, for an angel you would’ve done remarkably well in Hell’s occupational safety unit.”
***
“The marble business probably looked alright from the crowd, didn’t it? Er, anyway, I do really appreciate your help for this show.” Aziraphale was twisting his fingers.
Crowley slithered off his perch on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, you promised me we’d finally open that really nice champagne after, it’s not like I did this out of the residual goodness of my twisted heart.”
“Oh my dear, what’s this behind your ear?”
“Angel, please—hang on, have I even got ears like this?”
“Oooh, it’s very shiny...”
“Must do, how else could I hear this ridiculous— oh .”
“Anthony J. Crowley, would you do me the honor of first, turning back into something with ring fingers, and second, marrying me?”
There was a whoosh and an abrupt transformation, and somewhere in the flurry of kisses that followed came a ‘yes’ that hissed a little at the end.