Ineffable Family

PROLOGUE

PLAYLIST:

Different Wings by Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Ours by Taylor Swift

TW: gender identity, fertility, socially conscious conversation

Aziraphale and Crowley had been going to Saint James Park when it was still a field, and it remained one of their favorites after their marriage—particularly for springtime picnics.

"You spoil me, darling," Aziraphale remarked, spreading jam on his second scone.

"I like spoiling you." Crowley flopped down with his head in the angel's lap. "Do you ever think about having kids, angel?"

"What?"

"Kids," Crowley repeated. "I've always had a soft spot for 'em, and you've got more parental instincts than a mother hen."

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, combing his fingers through the demon's hair. "Yes, I've thought about having a child. I'd like to. I just don't know how."

"What if one of us were to present as female?" Crowley asked a bit too casually.

Aziraphale's fingers went still. "Something tells me that you've been thinking about this for a long time."

Crowley hid his face in the angel's plump, tartan-clad thigh. "Maybe."

"Crowley. Crowley, dear, look at me," Aziraphale said sternly. The demon ignored him, his ears turning red from embarrassment. "Do you want a child?"

"Yes," Crowley mumbled.

"The offspring of angels and humans—the Nephilim—were monsters. There's no telling what the offspring of an angel and a demon would be. But whatever it is--"

"I know, angel, I just--"

"Whatever it is, we'll face it, together." Aziraphale leaned down and kissed the shell-shocked demon in his lap. "Yes, I want a baby. More than that, I want a baby with you. Let's go home and get started."

That night, Crowley changed his inner anatomy to female while maintaining his male outside. They figured that if it worked, he could present as female for the pregnancy. They made love, then Crowley curled up and slept as only a snake could. Aziraphale couldn't sleep. So he did what he'd done all his existence, when something was happening that he didn't understand, or when he had doubts: he prayed.

"Please, God Almighty," the angel whispered, knowing Crowley would sleep through it. "Let us have this. Let us have a family. Please. We won't fail you."

Sunday mornings were usually long and lazy at the bookshop. That routine was disrupted when Crowley vaulted over his husband to the bathroom.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale called. "Darling, are you okay?"

"Sick."

"Sick as in....?" Aziraphale asked faintly. They'd only been trying for a few weeks. Could it have happened that quickly?

"I think it was dinner." Crowley paused to vomit violently into the toilet. "Remember I said the oysters tasted funny?"

Aziraphale opened the door. "Can I do anything?"

Crowley groaned. He leaned his forehead against the toilet. "Can you miracle it away?"

"I just tried, it's not working." Aziraphale touched his husband's forehead. "You've got a bit of a fever, I think."