A gift fic for Cafelatte100 commissioned by 3Skydream3

Stay healthy, and I hope that this story brings a little happiness :)

So, another note, is that Skydream pitched me something where Crowley cooks for Aziraphale, and to that I added sort of an origin story for my headcanon that after the averted apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley end up helping people deal with weird issues. This is how that all got started.

A Mid-Millenia Crisis

A Good Omens Fanfic

The apocalypse is off, Aziraphale and Crowley are out of a job, and now they have nothing to do. Until Aziraphale discovers something that might help them through their own immortal brand of midlife crisis.

Retirement can be quite relaxing, but sometimes, it can also be extremely boring. Crowley was beginning to realize this as he sat on his couch, flipping channels and getting nothing but horrid daytime television—and no, he could not be blamed for that. It wasn't even clever enough to be evil, which made it all the worse.

Of course he was glad not to have been executed for his treachery, but now that the apocalypse was off thanks to him, Aziraphale, and the antichrist, and thanks to the fact that Hell was no longer interested in his employment, Crowley had nothing to do. And nothing to do for an immortal who had already been around for over six thousand years and seen everything there was to see was torment in itself. Perhaps he hadn't escaped the punishment after all.

Crowley's lip began to rise in a sneer as he sprawled lazily, one hand propping up his chin while he continued to flip dreary channels of dreary television.

Maybe it was time to take another century's nap. He's already seen enough of this one and if daytime television was all humanity had to offer right now, the nap might be a good idea.

The phone rang and he leapt up eagerly, ready for anything interesting to happen, even if it just turned out to be a telemarketer.

"Wot?" he answered, a little short tempered.

"Ah, my dear, I caught you." Aziraphale, sounding rather chipper. "I thought you might like to come over. I just acquired some very rare wine and—"

Crowley cut him off. "Oh hell, yes. I'll be right there."

And that saw them lounging in the back room of the bookshop with multiple bottles of drink emptying around them, much the same picture as the one that preceded the events leading up to the apocalypse-that-didn't-happen.

"I just don't get it," Aziraphale was saying, slurring slightly. "I was'salways very happy running the bookshop and now…" He gestured vaguely with his hands. "Course I love it, but it's really rather…rather…"

"Boring," Crowley heaved a sigh worthy of Oscar Wilde as he slumped back against the couch, downing the cup in his hand before reaching for the bottle.

Aziraphale sighed as well, if not as impressively. "Exactly. I s'pose I feel like I just don't have anything to do," he huffed wearily.

"I was thinking of sleeping for the next century," Crowley told him. "Y'could consider that."

"Oh, dear, no," Aziraphale shook his head. "The whole world would be changed by the time you woke up. And at the rate humans are coming up with things now, you'd never catch up. I couldn't stand it." Said the angel who still had Doss on the computer he used for the shop.

"Well, what then?" Crowley demanded. "Because frankly, I'm about ready to bash my own brains in with boredom."

Aziraphale took a long sip of his wine and pointed pointedly at the demon. "I do believe we need to find new hobbies."

Crowley groaned. "No, no, no, angel. Last time you said that, it was magic tricks." His lip curled.

"Yes, but that's what humans do when they retire or…what is it called? When they have a midlife crisis?"

"I thought they bought expensive things like yachts and sports cars?" Crowley muttered. "And anyway, we're not having a midlife crisis. Just a change of occupation."

"Why not? Surely, we're long past due to have one after being on earth for six thousand years and all."

"Well, you can have yours," Crowley muttered. "I'm fine the way I am."

But he was already thinking about the hobbies, thanks to Aziraphale, that damned angel.

He just wasn't sure what he'd like to do.

It was actually watching more daytime telly that Crowley got his idea. Perhaps it was good for something after all. Or at least the cooking shows were.

He's never used the kitchen in his flat, after all, he rarely ate, he didn't need to, and when he did, it was because Aziraphale dragged him to places with supposedly fantastic, magical, scrumptious—and many other adjectives—food. The angel really liked to eat, and making things looked…fun, or at least mildly interesting. There were knives and fire involved just like in Hell but used in a constructive way, which interested Crowley no end. He decided he needed to try this out.

So he got cookbooks and supplies and went to the corner shop which he had rarely ever done, and bought what he needed.

Then he went home, put on an apron and stared at the pile of stuff on the large granite island in his kitchen.

Looking at it now, it was all a bit overwhelming, but Crowley decided that there was nothing for it but to simply start so that's what he did.

His first few attempts did not turn out. Oh, yes, eggs were not meant to go into a baked good whole—that would be a good thing to remember. Crowley had been wondering about that. And there was a difference between baking soda and baking powder after all even though they looked the same.

But after these mistakes were sorted out, Crowley began to realize that he liked baking. Especially when the cake he was making rose and turned out quite nicely. Devil's food. He grinned at the irony and was already having a bit of a giggle at the thought of Aziraphale eating it.

But he didn't stop with cake. He made scones and pastries, trying harder and harder ones as he progressed in his skill.

He really had no idea how long he had been in his kitchen cooking, but when he finally looked around him, he realized that the place was covered in sweets. It looked like a well-stocked bakery, and the treats progressed in skill from the ruined cake to the eclairs he had just finished frosting in chocolate.

Maybe there was something to this hobby thing after all.

But what the hell was he going to do with all of this?

Aziraphale. He would have Aziraphale over for tea.

Crowley flung the mitts off his hands and went to his office, picking up his phone.

"Hello?" the angel's voice came over the line.

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh, Crowley! I hadn't heard from you for a couple days. What have you been up to?"

"Oh, er…" It had been that long? Rather embarrassing to have gotten that caught up with everything. "Well, I've been enjoying a new hobby, actually."

"Really? That's wonderful! What is it?"

Crowley smiled proudly. "Come over to my place tomorrow for tea."

Aziraphale showed up the next day and Crowley sat him at the table he had set before he hurried to the kitchen and returned with a fancy tea cart that had not only tea, but an array of pastries that looked like they had come out of a French patisserie. Aziraphale's eyes widened in obvious surprise or shock or both as Crowley gave a proud smirk and set out the tea cups.

"Crowley? Did you make all this?" Aziraphale asked in awe.

Crowley grinned. "Yep! I actually rather enjoy it. You know that hobby idea wasn't half bad, angel." He pushed the cart over to Aziraphale. "Now I want you to try everything and tell me how it is."

Delighted, Aziraphale sampled the treats and exclaimed over them as Crowley watched with satisfaction.

"These really are scrummy, Crowley," Aziraphale complimented. "I never would have thought that you would be a natural pastry chef."

"Well, you've made me eat enough fancy desserts, I figure I should be able to replicate them well enough," Crowley preened, not planning on mentioning all the failures that he had started off with. He quickly glanced at the cart to make sure none of the cakes with the eggshells in them had accidently made it out to the table.

Aziraphale finished his slice of Victoria sponge and dabbed his lips with his napkin. "If you keep this up, I might not bother going to cafés so much anymore."

"Well, I have a lot of time on my hands," Crowley said and plucked up an éclair, taking a large bite.

Crowley continued to spoil Aziraphale with treats on a daily basis. He was always bringing things over to the shop and Aziraphale ate them dutifully, always shocked at just how skilled his friend was becoming with his baking.

And then he realized that his waistcoat would no longer button, no matter how hard he tried.

"Oh, bother," Aziraphale huffed. How embarrassing. It seemed that the constant consumption of sweets had had an unfortunate effect even on his angelic figure.

Unfortunate indeed, as he had gotten quite spoiled on Crowley's offerings.

When the demon showed up that day, Aziraphale reluctantly told him no, even though the danishes looked oh so good.

"Why not?" Crowley demanded, looking hurt. "They're fresh! And I know raspberry jam is your favorite."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. "Don't tempt me! I simply can't! I have…I've gotten even softer!"

Crowley eyed him, then shrugged. "So? Is that a bad thing?"

"I've had this coat and waistcoat for over a hundred years and they don't fit now! Yes, it's rather distressing!"

"You can make them bigger if you really want to."

"That's not the point!" Aziraphale sighed, running a hand tiredly through his hair. "I can't just sit around here and get fat with nothing to do. I'll go insane."

Crowley sighed and set the tray of pastries on the table. "If I'm being honest, I'm starting to get bored of baking too. There's only so many things you can make really."

Aziraphale turned to the tray, biting his lip. "Well, I suppose if you're not going to be making any more, there's no harm in eating these."

But they did need to find some sort of occupation. Because it was true, much more of this and they would be begging to go back to the old days which was honestly ridiculous.

The answer came to Aziraphale quite by accident as he walked home from his now daily constitutional in the park and saw a flyer that looked like it had been made by a child, announcing a lost dog.

Aziraphale took the flyer down from the post and tucked it into his pocket, thinking that he might be able to find the missing hound himself. At least that was something.

Unfortunately, he forgot about it until the next day when he saw another flyer, this time for a lost cat. Remembering the one from the day before, Aziraphale vowed to get to work on both cases, but even as he was walking down the street, he saw two more flyers for lost pets.

That was a bit odd, he had to admit. One or two missing pets was normal in a city as large as London, but so many all at once and in the same vicinity? That might be something to look into.

Of course, he was likely just grasping at straws and there was probably nothing to be blamed but an overachieving dog catcher, but either way, he might be able to make some children happy at the very least which would be more than he had been doing.

So he collected all the flyers, finding yet two more before he got back to his shop, and called Crowley once he returned.

"Can you come over? I have something I want to show you," he said.

Crowley showed up half an hour later and looked unimpressed when Aziraphale showed him the pile of missing pet flyers scattered across the desk in his backroom.

"What is this, angel?" Crowley asked wearily. "You can't really tell me you want to start a lost pet recovery business."

"Well, no, not exactly, but Crowley, look at this," Aziraphale said, motioning to the flyers. "So many pets missing from one block in the course of only a couple days! That doesn't sound odd to you?"

Crowley shrugged. "Honestly, I don't really know? Is it?"

"Yes, I believe it is!"

Crowley rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "I think you've been reading too many detective stories is what I think. But I suppose I don't have anything better to do either since you won't let me make you sweets anymore."

"I never said you could never make them, just not all the time," Aziraphale said, gathering the flyers up and stacking them neatly. "I have to consider my figure!"

"Of course you do," Crowley mocked.

"Well, you could do with gaining a few pounds yourself, if I'm being honest; you should eat them," Aziraphale retorted.

Crowley stuck his serpent's tongue out as he grabbed his coat and slung it on as he followed Aziraphale out of the shop to start their investigation.

Even as they were leaving the shop, however, Aziraphale spotted a little girl tacking a poster with a picture of a grey cat on it, to a pole. Aziraphale shared an 'I told you so' look with Crowley who rolled his eyes as the angel started toward the girl.

"Oh, er, excuse me," Aziraphale said before she could leave, hurrying over.

The girl looked up cautiously, as if she weren't sure she should stay but Aziraphale smiled at her and held up the other flyers. "I see you're missing a cat? My friend and I have been trying to find out what has been happening to the pets around here."

She looked interested. "Are you with the pound?"

"Oh, no, just trying to help out," Aziraphale said kindly. "I'm Aziraphale."

"I'm Penny." Her face fell. "My cat Daisy ran away last night. She never even leaves the flat, I have no idea why she left or how she even got out. Two days ago, my friend Brian lost his dog. It's like…" she hesitated and shook her head.

Aziraphale frowned at her hesitation. "It's like what?"

Penny bit her lip. "Nothing."

Aziraphale shared a look with Crowley before he turned back to the little girl. "Penny, whatever you say, we'll believe you, I promise."

She still looked hesitant, but she sighed. "Brian is convinced that he saw someone weird the night before his dog went missing."

"Weird how?" Crowley asked, stepping in.

Penny glanced up at him, shifting uncomfortably. "He said he thought they were an evil sorcerer."

"Why would he say that?" Aziraphale asked.

"Because he was wearing a dark cloak I guess," Penny shrugged. "I didn't really believe him, he plays too many fantasy games, but, after Daisy went missing and all those other pets too, I wondered if there was something weird going on."

"Well, whatever it is, Mr. Crowley and I are here to help," Aziraphale told her kindly and pointed to the stack of papers she was holding. "May we have one of those?"

She nodded and handed him a flyer with Daisy's picture on it. Aziraphale thanked her and added it to the stack with the others.

"You really think you'll be able to find our pets?" Penny asked hopefully.

"I promise we will do our best," Aziraphale assure her and she continued down the pavement, putting up more flyers.

Aziraphale turned to Crowley with a little triumph. "See? I told you something strange was going on."

Crowley looked nonplussed. "Just because some kid said an evil sorcerer stole his dog?"

"Children are very perceptive and lie less than adults seem to think they do," Aziraphale said firmly. "In any case, someone—or something—is very probably stealing pets around here and I think we should find out who. After all, it may just turn out to be our department."

Crowley grunted, but didn't protest, instead following Aziraphale to the nearest block of flats where their sleuthing would begin.

It was late, and Aziraphale still hadn't moved from his position by the window of the bookshop. Crowley watched him balefully.

"Someone is going to call you out as a Peeping Tom if you keep that up, angel," he said lazily.

"That's ridiculous," Aziraphale huffed, as he continued to scan the area across the street where the majority of the pets had gone missing. "And anyway, we have to keep looking. Most of the animals have gone missing at night, so that must be when the thief is out."

Crowley heaved a sigh, flipping boredly through a book on sea life. They'd gone to search the apartment earlier and hadn't found anything, not even after they had interviewed the other people about the missing pets. Crowley was beginning to think Aziraphale had cracked with his obsession in this "case". Maybe the demon should work a little harder at finding them something to do.

A small gasp from the angel caused Crowley to turn around with interest.

"Wait…Crowley, come look! I see something!"

Crowley refrained from sighing again as he closed the book and crossed the shop to look over Aziraphale's shoulder.

"Wot?" he asked, then as Aziraphale pointed, he saw the dark figure walking down the pavement on the other side of the street. And…

Well, Crowley had to admit that they kind of did look like an evil sorcerer. They were certainly in the long hooded, black robe for it. He could at least see how someone with an imagination like a child—or the demon, for that matter—could come to that conclusion.

"Let's go!" Aziraphale was already on his feet and heading toward the door.

"Angel, wait," Crowley tried to say, but Aziraphale was not stopping, so Crowley had no choice but to follow him. He didn't really think it could get them into trouble, but, well, you never did know.

The dark figure disappeared into the apartment complex and Aziraphale and Crowley hurried after it, seeing it ducking into a room that led to what was presumably the basement.

"Come on!" Aziraphale whispered excitedly, already giving chase.

"Aziraphale, would you stop and think for a minute about what we're doing?" Crowley hissed back but was already following the angel, of course.

They made their way down the stairs as silently as possible, and once they got down there, they saw there was a room to one side where a light could be seen under the door.

"The secret lair of a pet-snatcher," Crowley muttered mockingly.

"Exactly," Aziraphale whispered, not seeing his sarcasm, or at least ignoring it.

"We have no idea what we're getting into."

"Yes, and if the pets are in there we'll want to have known," Aziraphale told him firmly, grabbing him by the arm and tugging Crowley forward. "Come!"

Crowley reluctantly followed the angel toward the door and Aziraphale took the knob, twisting it.

They crept inside slowly and as quietly as possible but their movements seemed to be muffled by the sounds of stirring on the inside. It was mostly dark, but there was enough light from a naked bulb in the ceiling to see that the shadowed space along the back wall was the source of the rattling, restless sounds.

Aziraphale gasped and Crowley had to admit he was somewhat shocked to see that the angel had been right after all.

Animal cages were stacked along the wall and inside were all the pets that Crowley had seen in the missing flyers. Even Penny's cat.

"Well, I guess I owe you one, angel. You were right," Crowley muttered.

Aziraphale was already heading over to the cages when the voice called out.

"What are you doing in here?"

The angel and demon both spun around and Crowley saw the cloaked man, carrying a bowl, with…a knife in it?

Aziraphale strode up with a frown. "I could ask you the same question, sirrah! What are you doing with all these animals?"

But before he could answer, Crowley stepped forward, pointing to the man. "You really are a witch, aren't you?"

The man looked indignant. "I'm not a witch, I'm a warlock!"

"That's the same thing," Crowley muttered.

"No, it's not!" the not-self-proclaimed witch said, clenching the bowl in his hands. "And I'll prove it too! When I finish my spell, I'll be stronger than any random witch!"

"Spell?" Crowley asked blandly.

"Wait…" Aziraphale said, seeming to put two-and-two together. "You're using these animals for sacrifices?"

"What's it to you?" the man glowered.

"They're people's pets!"

The would-be-warlock shrugged. "So what? No one's going to stop me. Not when I get my true powers. I'll have rule of this whole place!"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Why are all of you always so bloody annoying?"

The warlock straightened up, narrowing his eyes at them. "I can tell you two aren't normal humans either. If you try to use magic on me, I warn you, it won't work. I've warded myself against other magic users."

"Oh, I'll bet," Crowley muttered, unimpressed, as he folded his arms across his chest.

"I will, and you're not going to stop me!" he said, grabbing his knife and holding it to his wrist as he started to let blood. "I'll stop you before you can try anything!"

Aziraphale simply raised a hand and snapped his fingers with a weary expression. The would-be-warlock disappeared in the blink of an eye, the beginning of his Latin chant dying off.

"How awful," Aziraphale muttered.

Crowley glanced over at him. "Where did you send him?"

Aziraphale shifted. "I, er, might have sent him out to the moorlands. I'll call Sergeant Shadwell in the morning and tell him a dangerous witch is on the loose. I'm sure he'll handle it from there."

"You could have just called the police," Crowley said blandly. "Stealing pets is a crime, after all. But no, of course you had to be dramatic."

Aziraphale glowered at him. "Oh, yes, like you're one to judge when it comes to being dramatic!"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Whatever, angel. Let's just get these animals back where they belong, shall we?"

Daisy the cat was the last animal to be reunited with her human, and Penny was so happy she hugged both Crowley and Aziraphale when they brought her pet back to her.

Crowley wanted to be mad, but he couldn't be. He patted the little girl on the head and hid a smile from Aziraphale as they left the apartment and headed back to the bookshop.

"Well, I have to admit," he said. "You were right."

Aziraphale smiled at him. "I'm just glad I decided to act on my feelings. Who would have guessed it actually was an aspiring warlock? Who knows what he might have done eventually."

"If he had any real talent at all," Crowley muttered. "Which I highly doubt."

"But if he did, he could have hurt people," Aziraphale insisted. "It makes you wonder how many other things of a supernatural nature might be hiding out in London or England as a whole."

"Don't really think it bears thinking about," Crowley said, but Aziraphale was already ignoring him. Crowley sighed and bade the angel goodnight as they reached his shop door. Aziraphale barely seemed to hear him and Crowley got into his Bentley with a bad feeling that his friend was plotting.

The next morning, Aziraphale was just finishing reading the newspaper when Crowley came into the shop.

"You here, angel?"

"Back here, dear!" Aziraphale called and stood as Crowley came in.

The demon had a covered plate and he set it on the table. "I brought some pastries to celebrate the job well done last night," he said. "Want me to make tea?"

"Oh, yes, do, Crowley, but I have something exciting to talk to you about first! I know exactly what we're going to be doing from now on!"

Crowley was nonplussed as Aziraphale picked up the paper and held it in front of the demon, tapping an advert. "This!"

"What is this?" Crowley asked, reading the paper.

He scanned the advert and read it again. It said:

Odd occurrences, strange happening, unexplained problems?

Call A.Z Fell and A. J. Crowley

Private Investigators and Consultants of the Natural and Unnatural

Crowley glanced up at the angel who had an eager smile on his face.

"Well?" Aziraphale demanded.

"You want us to be Ghostbusters?" Crowley asked.

"No, no!" Aziraphale said. "Well, unless there is an issue with a ghost, of course. I just thought…maybe people sometimes need someone who can understand things in a way the normal authorities can't? After all, who else is going to do it?"

Crowley sighed, but, honestly, he kind of liked the idea. "Well…I guess we could probably manage that. And it would be something to do…"

"So you're with me?" Aziraphale asked with a smile, as he grabbed a bottle of wine and poured two glasses in celebration.

Crowley rolled his eyes fondly and picked up the glass. "You know I'm always with you, angel."

Aziraphale beamed and they clinked the glasses, toasting their new occupation.

Hopefully, it wouldn't end up discorperating them.