Chapter Text
This was the most spectacular sunset since they’d started these evening picnics — all pink and purple, highlighted with gold — but Crowley could not focus. He kept thinking about wings. Specifically Aziraphale’s. The angel sat beside him on a blanket at the edge of a field, smiling about the way one cloud or another looked like a duck, and all Crowley could think about was how well his feathers would catch the fading light if he brought them out now.
It was a rather baffling train of thought, but Crowley wasn’t in the habit of examining his own motives for anything, so he just did his best to focus on the conversation.
“It’s that bit right over there,” Aziraphale was saying. “With the head pointing to the left. Do you see it?
Crowley saw it, all right. A duck with one wing spread out behind it, glowing in the sunlight while Crowley sat in the shadow.
How dare clouds be that accurate.
Crowley cleared his throat. “Yeah, with the wing?”
“Yes!" Aziraphale beamed. "Do you see any others?”
“Hm, nope.” Crowley didn’t bother looking at the clouds any longer, gazing at Aziraphale instead. “Looks a lot like your wings, though.” It felt scandalous to say.
Aziraphale’s pleased little smile shone like his own private sunset. All the reflected colors of the sky played along the angel’s face, and Crowley flashed back to the first time they’d met, before time had properly begun. The light of creation had lit up Aziraphale’s face then too, though Crowley had hardly given it the attention it deserved.
The angel’s feathers shone in his memory: sun-bright and perfectly shaped…
Crowley turned his head abruptly back to look at the sky, where the light show was dimming.
Thankfully Aziraphale didn’t notice. He was talking about the direction of the high-altitude winds, and the likelihood that all the clouds would blow away soon.
“We may just get a perfect view of the stars,” the angel said.
“Hmm," Crowley replied. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Oh, I know, always raining,” Aziraphale fussed. “The perils of living in England.” Then he lapsed into abrupt silence, as if he was also having a different conversation inside his own head. Crowley almost asked him about it.
Instead he thought about one pristine wing shielding him from rain when it had no right to do so.
They were both silent while the light faded from the sky. All of the clouds, duck-shaped and otherwise, slowly swept out of sight as stars twinkled to life. A crescent moon bathed everything in pale blue light. Crowley slithered down to lie on the blanket while Aziraphale stayed sitting.
After a while, the angel said, “I’m glad you insisted on driving this far.”
“Hm?” Crowley rolled his head to look up at him.
“It’s such a difference without the city lights.” Aziraphale waved a hand at the darkened meadow. “Well worth the trip.”
“Mm. I thought so too.” Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s shoulders, wondering if he could offer a back massage that would make the angel moan enough to forget himself and manifest his wings on the physical plane. Crowley had never tried that before, but it seemed worth a shot now.
“Oh, look!” Aziraphale said.
Crowley looked just in time to see a barn owl glide across the field. Its wings were pure white, and it moved in the manner of all owls, with perfect silent grace.
He stared after it, vaguely aware that his mouth was open and that he didn’t have his sunglasses to hide behind. But he couldn’t make himself stop.
“How lovely,” Aziraphale said. Then, “Crowley?”
Crowley shut his mouth, wide-eyed. “Just—” He fumbled for an explanation for why he’d been staring at a barn owl like a horny teenager. “Just… We can do that. We should do that!” He warmed to the subject. “Aziraphale, how long has it been since you’ve flown?”
“Oh, centuries, I should think,” the angel said. “That sort of thing gets a bit too much attention these days.”
“Not out here!” Crowley scrambled to his feet, flinging his arms wide. “There’s no one here!”
“Yes, but it’s nighttime,” Aziraphale pointed out.
“All the better for keeping out of sight! C’mon, there’s plenty of moonlight to see by.”
Crowley knew the expression on the angel’s face well. It meant that he wanted to be talked into something, and was just waiting for the right excuse. Crowley grinned sharply in the moonlight. Then he freed his own wings, spreading them wide and dark for the stars to shine off of. He even flapped them a couple of times and held out a hand at his most enticing.
“Let me tempt you.”
“Well,” Aziraphale said, looking more than a little flustered. “How could I say no to that?” He took Crowley’s hand.
Crowley pulled him to his feet with a touch of dance spin. Aziraphale went along with it, dancing out to stop with a dramatic flare of his own wings. He wore the kind of giddy smile that Crowley just lived for. And his wings were every bit as glorious as he’d remembered.
But there was no time for that now, when there was flying to be done! Still holding the angel’s hand, Crowley bent his knees. “Ready?”
Aziraphale surprised him by leaping upwards first. Crowley followed with his laughter echoing off the trees.
He’d almost forgotten how good it felt to have the wind blasting past, flowing through feathers as well as hair. As much as he loved the Bentley — and he’d never say so where it could hear — flying under his own power put cars to shame.
Especially when Aziraphale was flying with him.
They powered high into the night sky before leveling out into a peaceful glide, which lasted only moments before Crowley dove and Aziraphale chased after him. When he finally pulled up, the angel flashed past him with a precisely-aimed smack on the backside and a downright wicked chuckle.
To say Crowley was impressed was putting it mildly. He set off in hot pursuit that turned into a lively game of chase, complete with spins and rolls and enough aerial tricks to put any mortal bird to shame. They flew for hours.
When they finally found their way back to the blanket, swooping in low over the meadow, wingtips nearly touching, dawn wasn’t far away. They backwinged to a landing, buffeting the grass until their feet touched down.
Despite the wind, there was morning dew everywhere. Neither minded.
“We must do that again,” Aziraphale said, out of breath.
“Anytime you like, Angel. Just say the word.” Crowley was grinning like an idiot, and didn’t care a bit.
“It seems so mundane to go back to the shop after that, but…” Aziraphale folded his wings away, and Crowley groaned in protest.
“Do you have to? They look so nice.”
Aziraphale gave him an amused smile. “They’ll hardly fit in the Bentley.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Crowley reluctantly folded his own wings, then when Aziraphale picked up the picnic basket, Crowley wasted no time in snapping the dew off the blanket and folding it too. With the bundle under his arm, he made a courtly gesture toward where the Bentley waited at the nearest roadside. “After you.”
Aziraphale’s smile never left his face as he took Crowley’s hand. The pair left the meadow without being spotted by a single mortal soul.
Probably.
* * *
Dani sighed as she brought up the files from the trail camera. She preferred to check it first thing in the morning, but things had been busy at the ranger station, and it was hardly a priority. The little snippets of night-vision video that it caught were nothing to write home about, after all. Good for showing city kids, and fun for curiosity’s sake, but not much more than that.
She opened the first file and found to her minor annoyance that it was another date night for those same two guys again. “Aw man,” she muttered, scrolling through the rest. She was hardly one to begrudge a pair of elder queers the occasional evening to themselves, but did they have to pick this meadow every time?
“I’m gonna put up a sign,” she threatened, though she likely wouldn’t do anything of the sort. What would it say? That would be horribly rude. No, she’d just have to deal with another wasted opportunity to get a glimpse of the new fox cubs or Lord Snuffles the hedgehog.
As usual, all of the video snippets were of them waving their arms when they talked about whatever — Dani would have liked a camera that picked up sound as well as black-and-white images, but that would have been intruding (as well as expensive). She skimmed along faster, hoping they had made an early night of it, and some of the later files might be worthwhile.
At a sudden flash of white, Dani skidded to a halt and went back. That had looked like an owl come awfully close. Had it flown at one of the guys?
No. Not, it had not.
Dani stared in open-mouthed shock as the pair of otherwise unremarkable gentlemen sprouted wings and launched into the sky.
She played the short clip several times. Then she checked the following ones, most of which held nothing more than a moth bumbling close to the camera — but still with that blanket and picnic basket on the ground! — while others held tantalizing glimpses of what must be going on in the sky.
They were really flying with those wings. When one swooped low over the grass, chased by the other, Dani blinked and realized how dry her eyes were getting. She should probably be blinking more. But there were more video clips to check.
When she finally reached the dramatic landing, and got to see those wings fold away into nothing, Dani didn’t know what to do with herself. She watched the two mysterious entities walk out of frame with their blanket and basket in tow.
The remaining clips held only mice. Those would normally be cute to watch, but nothing about right now was normal. Dani made herself take several deep breaths, then rubbed her eyes. She watched the first clip again.
Then she dashed outside and raced down the trail to where the camera was. It was a good thing she didn’t pass anyone, because she had no idea what kind of wild answer might come out of her mouth if they asked what the hurry was.
The meadow looked innocent and normal in the sunlight. Dani’s boots slipped a little on the leaves as she came to a stop next to the camera. With one hand steadying herself on the trunk of the oak, she scanned the area for any sign of magic. Or whatever that had been. It had to be magic. Maybe someone had made fake videos, stolen the camera’s memory card long enough to load them onto it, then replaced it?
That sounded more unlikely than magic.
And there in the grass, off to the left where she’d almost missed it, lay a large black feather.
Dani scrambled over and picked it up with fingers that shook with adrenaline. It was an absolutely pristine specimen, perfectly groomed and a deep glossy black, with downy fluff at the base.
It didn’t come from any species of bird she knew of.
Except maybe a remarkably man-shaped bird that had been here last night.
Dani walked back to the ranger station slowly. As she did, she thought very hard about who to tell first.