Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Day 1: Leaves, Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 2: Blanket, Star Trek AOS McKirk

Day 3: Moonlight, Kingsman, Gen

Day 4: Heat, Hannibal, Hannibal/Will (onesided)

Day 5: Sweaters, Sherlock, Gen

Day 6: Tranquil, Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 7: Stars/Night Sky, Star Trek AOS McKirk

Day 8: Warm Mugs, Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 9: Magic, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 10: Forest, Star Trek AOS, McSpirk

Day 11: Wings, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 12: Pumpkins, Star Trek AOS, McSpirk

Day 13: Reptiles, Sherlock, Gen

Day 14: Books, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 15: Pajamas, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 16: Enchantment, Star Trek AOS, McSpirk

Day 17: Ring, Star Trek AOS, McSpirk

Day 18: A Bridge, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 19: Swing, Sherlock, Johnlock

Day 20: Movie Night, Kingsman, Hartwin

Day 21: Thunderstorm, Hannibal, Hannigram

Day 22: Soft, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 23: Baking, Star Trek AOS, McKirk

Day 24: Apples, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 25: Animals/Creatures, Good Omens, Crowley/Aziraphale

Day 26: Love/Heartbreak, Star Trek AOS, Spirk + McKirk

Day 27: Candy/Sweets, Star Trek AOS, McSpirk

Day 28: Haunted/Paranormal, Hannibal, Hannigram

Day 29: Party, Kingsman, Hartwin

Day 30: Haunted House/Cemetery, Sherlock, Johnlock (If you squint)

Day 31: Halloween, Johnlock, Hannigram, Hartwin, Ineffable Husbands, McSpirk

Chapter Text

Day 1. Leaves

Aziraphale was in his bookshop, puttering about, placing books where his 'customers' have misplaced them when the door chime ringed and he turned to 'greet' his pesky 'customers'.

"Absolutely not! We are clos- Crowley!" His bitter scowl brightened into a happy smile. "What brings you here?"

Crowley smiled at his angel, lifting his hand that held a small bag of boxed crepes from that french bakery down the street that his angel frequently loves to dine in. "I got you snacks, angel! Wanna go for a picnic? The trees in the park are all turning leaves, makes for a great outdoorsy mini picnic!"

Aziraphale's smile brightened more, if possible. He quickly set aside his books and put on his coat, quickly doing a small miracle and brought out a bottle of red wine to go along with the crepes.

"Oh! That would be quite lovely, dear! Better not dally any longer then! Off we go." He gently closed his shop door and locked it, flipped the sign to close and slid his hand over Crowley's offered arm. "Lead the way, my dear."

They chatted all the way. Free from their previous restrictions from each of their warring factions, of course they are still wary in case any attacks come but so far so good.

They settled under their favourite spot, a big oak tree with leaves turning bronze red from the changing seasons. Crowley brought out the crepes from their box while Aziraphale uncorked the wine bottle and both miracled a wine glass each and toasted to their freedom.

They talked freely about the books, food and music. They explored theories and literary discussions, about all the things they couldn't talk about before because of the pressure of keeping a distance from each other. The pretense of being enemies.

Not anymore though.

They are free now, from pressure or fear, it doesn't matter.

They have each other.

They observed the setting sun and the drifting breeze that brought with it a few stray red leaves from the trees surrounding them.

It was a good day. As it should be.

Chapter Text

Day 2. Blankets

Jim knew that he was going to have a bad day when he woke up and he felt like crap. His throat felt like the dessert but also scratchy and thorny, every time he swallowed, it felt painful. One of his nose hole feel stuffy and while the other one feel so runny, the contrast is, honestly, quite uncomfortable and disconcerting. His eyes feel so tired and blurry, tears not from pain or emotion of any kind fell down his cheeks as he tried to stop his too moist eyes from crying.

Overall it was not a pleasant morning.

And to make matters worse, there was a red alert just as he was contemplating calling it in sick. He groaned and pushed aside his discomfort and put his clothes on then headed for the bridge.

"Keptin on ze bridge!" Chekov's voice called as he stalked forward and took his usual seat on his chair.

"Sp-" He coughed to get the scratchy feeling away from his throat, rubbing it gently in hopes of soothing the passageway. "Spock, status?" Unfortunately his nasally tone of voice resounded badly despite his wishes to hide his sickness from everyone.

Spock quirked a delicate brow but otherwise wisely avoided the issue of his impending cold. Sulu however…

"Captain, are you sick?"

Well… hopefully no one alerts Bones.

"Uhura to Medbay, the Captain is coming down with the flu, send Doctor McCoy up."

Too late, dammit Uhura!

"I'm fi-ine!" He coughed again and cleared his throat. "I can do my job!" He whined. Please don't make Bones take him away! He'll poke him with those hypos and it will be even more unpleasant! He'd rather deal with Klingons everyday than deal with Bones, his allergies and hypos any day!

"No, you can't!" Ugh, Bones why.

The doctor came in from the turbo lift and started scanning him with his tricorder. He rolled his eyes heavenward as Bones fuss all over him while Spock took control of the situation and started listing things that they could do about whatever mess they've gotten themselves into now.

"I'm calling it, Jim. You have an oncoming flu, it's been spreading around lately, it's a wonder you only got it now, what with your crappy immune system." Bones clipped back his tricorder and gently grabbed Jim's arm. "Come on, to med bay with you."

"Fine. Spock, you have the conn." Jim sighed, his voice did not sound any better when he uttered those words and Spock's minute nod as he took his vacated seat on the captain's chair was overcome with worry for Jim, no matter how subtle it was. Jim was getting good at reading his first officer.

Jim however, was hoping to avoid this, as Bones led him on the way to medbay. He hated spending his sick days in med bay, it was too white and sterile. Everything felt too… much.

Plus, it's boring there. If he could, he would rather stay in his quarters, thanks.

"Any chance I could just spend my sick leave in my room, Bones? I mean, it's just the flu right?" He tentatively asked, still being led, like a child by Bones.

Bones stopped, gave him a measuring glance. He gave his best friend his most pleading puppy dog eyes ever. "Please? I promise not to go do captainy stuff till I'm better?" Well, nothing strenuous of course. Paperwork should be fine right?

"Hmn…" There was a long pause as Bones continued to stare down at him, he was beginning to sweat profusely under that magnifying gaze. He swore that Bones must have read his mind and is probably not going to allow him back to his own room, where it's more comfy and less stuffy.

After a few more beats. "Fine, but I'm staying in your room to monitor you, so you better not complain about the things I'll be bringing in from medbay."

Jim has never nodded his head so fast before.

---

After getting settled on his bed and Bones making sure he got a small dosage of antibiotic, the doctor left to go get some of his stuff from med bay.

Amazingly enough, the medicine worked wonders as he no longer felt as crappy as before. He also started to doze lightly, feeling the effects from the medicine take effect and soon, he was asleep.

---

He woke up a few hours later to a warm blanket enveloping him and Bones puttering about his room, the smell of a hearty soup floated through his stuffy nose and his mouth watered at the delicious smell. He never would have thought he'd even have the appetite to eat.

Wait.

This was not his starfleet issued blankets.

It was a pale pastel green with embroidered birds and flowers, the material felt soft and dewy to the touch, it reminded him of those blankets old grandmothers used to make for their grandchildren.

'Did this belong to Bones?'

He idly felt the material, bringing his fingers to and from the soft texture, feeling warm all of a sudden. Not the uncomfortable hot warmth of being under the sun for too long but something else entirely, a more homely warmth. Something he hasn't had the chance to feel in a long long time. Not after Frank. Not after Tarsus IV.

"Oh good, you're awake. Here eat this then you can drink your medicine before you go back to sleep." Bones placed down on his lap a tray of what looks to be homemade chicken noodle soup, a glass of water and his pills.

"Sleep, Bones? I just slept for who knows how long and you want me to go back to sleep again?" He grinned up at his best friend, who rolled his eyes at his antics, grumpily sitting down on a chair he moved beside his bed.

"Yeah, well, sleep helps you recuperate from the flu faster and it also helps you feel better. So eat up. Drink up, infant." Bones grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jim only smiled and took a small sip of his chicken noodle soup. "Mn, it's good, thanks, Bones. You didn't have to go and actually cook me this you know? Where did you even get the chicken and noodles from? We're in space."

"Oh, I have my ways. You just worry about getting better. Spock also mentioned that the catastrophe has been avoided and we're back on track, it's beta shift now, by the way, so that means you've slept through alpha shift entirely. I shouldn't even be here, I could be sleeping, in my own quarters, but noooo, someone's gotta babysit your ass."

Oh, Bones, ever the grumbler.

Jim only smiled cheekily as he continued to finish his meal. "How's everyone? No casualties?"

Bones sighed and shook his head while he muttered 'Impossible' under his breath. "No, just a few injured engineers. We got them sorted. It's you I'm more worried about."

"Aww, you do care!" Jim grinned like the cat that got the cream and his best friend's answering scowl was well worth the hypo to the neck he got in retaliation instead of the pills he could be swallowing instead. "Ow! Okay okay!"

He finished his meal and drank his water. Now that he's full and watered, he felt the oncoming wave of sleepiness hit him again.

Bones took his tray away and gently settled him back down on the bed.

"Hey, Bones?"

"Mhm?"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, Jim."

Then he fell back into the warm embrace of sleep, surrounded by the green homely blankets that smelled so much like Bones.

Chapter Text

Day 3. Moonlight

Stars blanketed the night sky. It was just a typical night, like any other night.

Soft music filtered through the upscale townhouse, occasionally broken in by a soft bark or two.

The lone occupant of this townhouse sat in front of a piano, standard size, yamaha brand with a handmade white doily and an opaque blue vase filled with sweet pea flowers as an added touch, the white doily and flowers contrasted nicely with the blue and muted tone of brown wood from the piano.

The young man sat and hummed along to the tune of the song, a slightly melancholic theme, the tempo slow and melodious with occasional hitches in pitch and notes. Nevertheless, despite the oddly chillingly solemn song he had a quaint sincere smile stretching soft plump lips.

His fingers danced across the piano tiles fluidly, with years of experience and grace commonly founded with him shooting and firing guns.

No one ever knew that he could play.

Except for one.

Well not anymore…

A soft whine from the pug laid on the small blue dog bed located beside the piano and he stopped playing to glance down at his dog.

"I know, JB. I miss him too."

His eyes trained to the right where his office desk was located, a stack of newspapers laid on top with only the front page news saved. He sighed and stood from the piano to walk over to his desk and take the stack of newspapers to place inside a box, beside it lie another box and another… and another.

More boxes.

"I guess these are the last of it, cleanin' this place up took longer than I thought it would." He gave the room a once over before his stomach growled, he blushed but then realized he was alone and chuckled listlessly by himself. "C'mon, JB, let's go get dinner."

He left the office and his dog trailed after him with a soft bark. He took the leash from the coat rack, latched it to his dog's leash, grabbed his keys and opened the door. He gave the house one last look before whispering something he hoped would reach the dead, then he left with his dog.

"Goodbye, Harry."

Chapter Text

Day 4. Fire

Will knew his heat was close, if not for the bright red circle marked on his calendar, then his body's increase in temperature and libido would be sign enough.

After all this was part of their plan.

It was his only way to ensure Hannibal's trust.

Well hopefully it works, but hopefully not too well.

We don't want any accidental pregnancies, do we?

"No, we don't." He muttered to himself as he stared at his sweaty form through the mirror. He just took a fresh bath and already he was hot and sweaty once more. This is what he hates most about heats.

The mindless sex and cloudy consent about submission, he could take. He had always developed a coping mechanism that ensured his sanity stays 'clean' but the aftermath is always something he abhors entirely, purely because it means getting down and dirty, sweat, bodily fluids and whatever else his body would have produced during that stage will be entirely uncomfortable to bear.

Not to mention the smell.

He has had a lot of heats before, all spent by himself because with his condition, it means he doesn't trust anyone not to take advantage of him.

But now.

Now he has to go through it with someone else.

Someone he doesn't entirely trust with his body, nor with his mind. What more his soul?

But it was for the case. To prevent anymore unnecessary murders.

They were so close, he can't back out now just because he hasn't done this with an alpha before.

He hasn't done much anything with anyone to be frank but he avoids thinking this as he gets dressed. He has classes to get to and students to teach.

Besides, he has already planted enough of his pheromones throughout Hannibal's office enough for the alpha to notice his oncoming heat would be arriving soon, what with the man's superior sense of smell.

Will has no doubts that Hannibal would be planning something. He just doesn't know if Hannibal will take the bait or retaliate in a different way.

Sighing in frustration, he adjusted his pants and put his coat on, grabbed his keys and left his house.

Better not dwell on these thoughts for now.

---

He puffed out heated breaths as he ran from his predator. He knew something was amiss when he went to Hannibal's office for his daily meetings and the alpha refused his not so subtle advances to spend his heat with him.

Today, Hannibal seemed normal enough, but he couldn't help but feel a tiny pin prick of fear laced down his spine. Everything seemed normal enough, but for some reason, he couldn't shrug off the inkling of something… dark and ominous surrounding Hannibal.

They finished off normally and he left to go to his car, but when he searched for his car keys, he couldn't find it anywhere in his person.

Then he smelled it before he saw. An alpha.

The man was larger than him, broader, more muscular and definitely exuded the typical alpha pheromones of going into rut.

This wasn't good.

He bolted before he could even think twice about where he was going, the alpha followed him, growling all the way like a ravaging maniac.

And there he was now, running around the cold baltimore winter with just a jacket as he tried to keep distance from his predator.

"Fuck!"

Just as he thought he was gaining more speed another alpha slammed against him from the side of the darkened back alley. He crumpled against the grimy wall, reeling from the shock and the pain that laced up his ribs and arm from the strong impact with concrete.

The nameless alpha above him growled and began clawing against his clothes. He struggled and threw a punch, unfortunately his wrist was grabbed and bent at an inhumane angle that bone almost protruded from the snap.

He yelped, high pitched with pain.

The other alpha managed to catch up and tackled the alpha who snapped his wrist. Now they started tussling and wrestling against the snow covered floor. Unwilling to share their prey.

Well, this just means Will has a chance for escape.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he took his opportunity for freedom and ran towards the fbi headquarters while the two alphas were still fighting against each other.

If memory serves him right, they have isolation rooms for omegas in intense heats, so he logged himself in with a swipe of his card and all but dashed for one of the said rooms.

Locking himself in with a privacy password to not let anyone in if he weren't in a more coherent and sane state and began awaiting his painful, mindless decent into heat.

---

They didn't call it heat for a reason of simple word choice. It means exactly as it states. The whole act was pure heat.

He felt like he was on fire, like his skin would melt off and he'd be enveloped in flames from the sheer amount of heat in his veins.

It clouded his judgement, left him gasping and keening, sweaty and unfulfilled with unadulterated want.

But there was no satisfying his wants, he was alone with no alpha. His nude body wriggled and bucked against air. Whining when nothing met him mid thrust.

He was so wet, dripping profusely and he wanted his heat to be satiated but it was not to be.

His passcode was effective in ensuring he'd spent the rest of his heat, all 3 days, alone.

Oh, but the pain was just as exquisite as the pleasure of being in heat. It was like a drug. Both addictive but painful.

He knew he could endure his heats alone, he has spent so much of his heats alone, what makes this one any different?

A single thought caught on his dazed and cloudy mind.

Hannibal.

He wanted the alpha to mark him, claim him. Make him his.

But no, that man, monster, cannibal, was the enemy.

Oh, but wouldn't it feel so good.

Shut. Up.

He needs to stop, he has to stop thinking about Hannibal in that way.

But he couldn't.

In the end he spent all 3 days thinking the phallic object he was pushing deep into his hole as Hannibal's, wishing he'd be mounted and claimed by the cannibal as his.

After the 3 days are up, he left the room feeling disoriented and exhausted. His wrist was still broken, he needs to go have it checked and repaired before the damage becomes irreparable. He also needs to go have his arm and ribs checked from that tackle 3 days ago.

After the adrenaline from his heat wore off. He woke up to sheer pain lacing up his arm, ribs and wrist, his first thought was 'fuck!' Followed by a groan as he pulled out the unmentionable item from his ass.

He showered hastily, cleaned himself up and got dressed in 3 day old clothes. He knew he smelled rank and ripe but he barely cared as he logged out of headquarters and people gave him either disgusted or pitying looks. He was used to those already.

He sighed as he remembered something vital. He still needed to go back to Hannibal's office to get his car keys. However, the thought of going back there with what he knows now makes him feel sick to his stomach.

But maybe he could lie to himself just as easily as he has lied to himself about Abigail Hobbs.

He's so good at lying to himself anyways.

Chapter Text

Day 5, Sweater

John knows that his sweaters make him look disarmingly fluffy and innocent. A man in a sweater doesn't look like they are capable of murder, as they say. But both he and Sherlock know the truth.

Of course, no one knows about him being a military doctor. The first thing they see when they see him is, short, blond, sweater guy. The rest follows, the 'oh, so you're a doctor!' further emphasizes his disarming facade.

Which is why it always annoys Sherlock when he goes and flirts with said people. He knows it annoys him to no end to pretend to be 'ordinary', 'dull' or 'boring'. They both know it to be false, after all.

So why bother?

"Because, Sherlock, unlike you, I actually like being viewed as a disarmingly innocent ordinary doctor who minds his business and putters about for his tea and biscuits. So, sod off and hands off my gun!" He shoves the self proclaimed consulting detective and snatches his gun from his grabby hands.

The resulting whine and moan almost tempts him to offer Sherlock some form of entertainment.

Almost.

He locks the gun back into his small chest and goes back to his couch and sips his tea as he reads the daily newspaper.

It almost feels domestic.

"John."

"Hmn?" He queried without looking up from his paper.

"John."

He sighs, sets the paper down and looks up to see Sherlock with a confused face glancing out the window.

This intrigues him and he stands from his perch on his comfy couch to stand beside his best friend. What he saw almost made him groan in annoyance.

"Not him again."

"I told you not to wear your sweaters when meeting this particular client. Look what you've done." Sherlock harrumps and goes to slump back into the long couch, face down and groaning about annoying kinky clients that can't take a hint.

John wearily observes all this while biting his bottom lip. He was wearing his red sweater today too so that doesn't really help facing this client and turning him down… again.

"Fine, I'll go get dressed in my button ups then!" He made for his bedroom upstairs and changes into one of the checkered white and blue shirts he has. "I'll sort this out, then. Hopefully, he stops coming by soon. We can't keep up with this. I can't keep up with this ridiculousness."

Sherlock rolls his eyes and proceeds to ignore him, delving into his mind palace.

John goes down to face their ex-client.

It doesn't go all that well.

He had to 'threaten' the man to leave him alone and that no, he is not interested in hot kinky sex while wearing his sweaters. He is not gay and not into bdsm, thank you very much.

Sherlock perks up once he comes back giving him an appraising look. One he's very familiar with.

"I've sorted it out, he won't bother us again."

"I figured as much…" Then he smiled wide, shark like and John sighed.

"Yes, I had to use the gun, now shut up. I'm not showing anyone the ring even if someone worse than him shows up."

A quirk of the brow is all he gets before Sherlock goes back to his mind palace, leaving him to his tea and newspaper.

The golden band of his ring shines idly from a peak in between the folds of his button up shirt, catching the light from the sun and blinking innocently.

Chapter Text

Day 6: Tranquil

It was so peaceful at night, without the customers there to mess up his perfectly organized (yes Crowley, they are organized to me!) books, in their perfectly perched places.

He had a warm steaming mug of cocoa and he was bundled up in the fluffiest of his blankets with his favorite book on his lap.

He was perfectly content and everything was at peace.

But then…

"Angel!"

Oh well, there goes the tranquility of peacefulness.

Aziraphale mourns his rarely spent 'me time' and got up from his wonderfully comfortable perch on his bed and slipped on his slippers, sighing in exaggerated exasperation, he climbed down the stairs to the bookstore part of his home.

"Yes, Crowley, why on earth are you even here? I thought you'd be asleep by now?" He opened the door to let the demon in. Settling both hands on his hips in a grandiose pose of demand, he cocked a hip to the side ever so slightly with a quirk brow, immensely unamused and unimpressed by having his private time interrupted so haphazardly.

Crowly looked vaguely chastised but twiddled with his thumbs in nervousness. "Er… well Angel… I couldn't sleep…" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "So, I thought maybe… Icouldsleepwithyoumaybe, butnotsexually just as friends you know completely platonic!" To top it off a nervous chuckle left pale lips.

Aziraphale's brows climbed high on his forehead and his mouth left slack open in shock. "O-h… well, um… I don't mind. Of course, we-we could sleep t-together, my bed is big enough for two. Platonically, of course, yes. Come on then, tip top!" And he hurriedly climbed up the stairs, a bright red blush spreading across his cheeks.

An equally similar red blush spread along Crowley's cheeks too but he beamed in happiness at not being sent away by his lovely, caring angel!

"Thank you, Angel!" Crowley gushed and plopped down on the king sized bed beside his Angel who gave him a shy but loving smile.

"Think nothing of it, dear. Now go to sleep." He leaned forward and gave the demon a sweet tender kiss on the cheek, then went back to his book, the bright blush intensifying bright red now.

Crowley absolutely melted into the bedsheets with a dopey smile. "Good night, Angel" He mumbled and soon, sleep claimed him, a soft blush still prevalent across pale cheeks.

Aziraphale smiled tenderly and whispered something with the gentlest of caress.

"Good night, Crowley"

Chapter Text

Day 7: Stars/Night Sky

Jim has always loved the stars. Space has always held a special spot in his heart. Ever since he could remember, he knew he felt like he belonged out here in space. He always felt so displaced down on Earth. Even back in the academy.

Space just feels so different.

The stars with their bright call. The numerous planets just waiting to be explored. The call of the black.

But no matter what, how deep the call, how sweet the temptations of the stars. He knew he belonged here too. On the Enterprise, with his crew. With Spock and Bones. Uhura, Scotty… Chekov and Sulu.

With everyone.

So even though the call for adventure is too great. The stars too blinding. The danger too extreme.

He knows he has his family to back him up.

He knows they love the stars just as much as he does too after all.

Yes, even Bones.

"Jim, you should be in bed! You're not completely healed yet!" There he is.

He lets himself be manhandled away from the observation deck and back into medbay, into his designated biobed. He smiles sweetly at his CMO, fussing about him and his vitals.

"I should hypo you to unconsciousness for thay stunt, you infant, but I won't just for that smile." Bones tucks him in and made to leave, but he grabs the man's hand before he could walk away.

"Thanks for always bringing me back, Bones."

Bones gives him a contemplative look before smiling with a small quirk of his lips. "Yeah, sure, Jimmy." He gives Jim a gentle squeeze on his bicep before leaving him to rest.

Jim dreams of stars, bright burning gases and splashes of light. He dreams of dark haired Vulcans and the color blue. He dreams of a brown haired man with compassionate hazel green eyes.

He falls into a sweet exquisite dream.

Chapter Text

Day 8: Warm Mugs

Aziraphale loves a lot of things.

Books. Tea. Food.

Colorful flowers in spring. Warm summer nights. Cool autumn breeze. Fresh fallen snow in winter.

But there's just something about a warm mug of drink that hits the right spot in every occasion or day.

Bad day? A nice warm cup of tea should do it.

Good day? Celebrate with a nice mug of cocoa piping hot and sweet!

Stressful day? Relax with the minty fresh smell of chamomile tea.

Lethargic? A shot of coffee should do the trick

Slow day? A steaming mug of hot chocolate would be good to accompany any reading material.

Aziraphale loves his drinks and he especially loves his mug. The white ceramic mug with angel wings for handles has been a long companion of sorts. It has been with him ever since the dark ages and it's become quite an endearing and valuable staple to his daily life.

So when one clumsy demon comes and barges into his shop one day and accidentally knocks the mug over, spilling hot cocoa all over the place and reducing the once priceless piece of ceramic into tiny, itty bitty shards.

Aziraphale all but weeped.

"My mug! Y-you broke it!" The forlorn angel cried, picking up the tiny shards with a mournful sob. Fat tears rolled down his chubby cheeks im rivulets and he has not cared about the cocoa soaking through his cream pants, soiling them a dark brown color.

While our beloved angel is making such exaggerated theatrical dramatics. Our clumsy demon on the other hand is… flustered.

"I-I'm so sorry, Angel! I'll buy you a new one!" Crowley all but scrambled down to his knees too, equally not giving a damn hoot about his black slacks that are also being soaked in cocoa.

Well they're a match made in… either heaven or hell, it doesn't seem to matter, they're both equally similar in this regard.

Aziraphale gives Crowley a venomous tearful glare. How dare he insinuate he could just simply replace such a valuable piece of his utilities! "This has been with me for centuries, Crowley! I've had this mug since the dark ages! It's one of the longest items I've owned! Longer than even my valuable coat! This is practically priceless! And you broke it!" Then he ended up wailing in despair, more fat tears running down his cheeks as he clutched at what once used to be a beloved mug.

Crowley was reduced to opening and closing his mouth in futile attempts to find a solution, he quite resembled a lost fish at sea… or well out of water. Because he is very much out of his depth with what to do about a crying angel.

"I… I can miracle it for you… like what I did with your coat." Crowley finally offered. A small blush painting his cheeks aa he brought a hand up to wipe away stray tears from his Angel's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Angel, that I broke your priceless mug. If you want I will try to fix it myself, I'll even try to go back in time to find a similar mug for you, just please don't cry anymore."

Aziraphale hiccuped in surprise at the offer and tried to stop the tears from falling. "Oh, how silly of me! You could miracle it fixed, how could I forget. I'm sorry for overreacting, dear. I just…" He wiped his eyes with his hanky that he miracled to dab his tears away.

"You just really love your mug. I get it, Angel. It's the same for me with my Bentley." Crowley smiled tenderly at his sweet angel and gathered him into his arms, patting the angel's back. "It's okay, let me fix it for you, Angel."

Aziraphale nodded and sniffled, inhaling Crowley's comforting scent and basking in the warm embrace for a while before they parted so Crowley could 'fix' his beloved mug.

After that they decided to close shop and relaxed together in Aziraphale's big bed, under warm blankets, a pair of matching mug (white ceramic angel wings and black ceramic demon wings) each with warm cocoa in it.

Chapter Text

Day 9: Magic

It was supposed to be a surprise for Adam's twelfth birthday party. He practiced all day and all night. Even downloaded those videos with the easy step-by-step process to help him master his skills.

But Crowley, as always, was right.

It was a disaster. Just like with Warlock's birthday party last year.

Aziraphale slumped, dejected, sitting on a mouldy rock, no longer caring that a piece of spaghetti noodle drooped and fell on his white shirt, smearing tomato sauce all over.

He was covered in food all over and he could feel the slight sting behind his eyes that marked an oncoming mental breakdown, filled with tears and sobbing, and whinning, lots of tears and whinning.

He just wanted to be good! It's the single most impossible thing and he can't even do it. He's an angel, it's supposed to come naturally!

Well, apparently not.

He was already full blown bawling by the time Crowley found him, sobbing on his dirty, filthy handkerchief as he whined about his failure to impress Adam and his friends leading to another mass food fight.

"Oh, Angel." Crowley sat beside him and pulled him into a one armed hug. He sobbed into the demon's neck, not caring if he dirtied Crowley's equally dirty black shirt and making a mess of himself by adding tears and snot into the mix.

"Why am I so bad at this, Crowley?! I tried to do my best! I really did! I even consulted that charming famous Las Vegas magician! And still I have failed to impress the children! And again it ended with such a debacle! I'm never going to be good with this!" Aziraphale bemoaned in such distress.

Crowley sighed and patted his angel on the back. "Don't say that, you just need more practice, is all! I'll even help you, hmn? We can apply for a workshop together! It'll be like a date!" Crowley suggested, urging his angel with in finger to look into his eyes, he lowered his shades and gave him a playful wink.

Aziraphale gasped, pleasantly surprised and beamed, even through tear stained eyes, his happiness was obvious. "Oh, Crowley! That would be wonderful! A date! Together! I would so love that!" He gave the demon a rather shy smile, looking up at him through his pale eyelashes.

Crowley found it quite charming and blushed beautifully down to his neck. "Y-yes! We could set it every friday or-or saturday, whenever you want, angel!" He stuttered, clearly flustered by the beautiful scene before him.

Those long lashes fluttered ever so and the impossibly ethereal blue eyes shone with such warmth and adoration.

Crowley was so lost for his angel.

He leaned forward and captured pretty, pink, soft lips. He couldn't help but be entranced by them. The softness, the plumpness. He was drawn to his beloved angel.

Just like magic.

They pulled apart and Aziraphale gave Crowley such a happy smile and a beautiful blush that Crowley had to kiss him again.

And again.

And again…

It was dark before they got back home together. A new schedule set every Saturday for a workshop in magic tricks was written on Aziraphale's calendar, encircled in bright blue ink.

Chapter Text

Day 10: Forest

Jim is lost. He knows this because he has passed that same tree with the weird curved branches two times now. And the light of the moon doesn't help him see any better in the dark so there's that too, but this is a class M planet with no moving life forms except for the fauna. So at least he was semi safe from being eaten.

Although, he was sure, Bones will not deem it such.

He sighed as he once again passed by the same darn tree.

"Okay, this is clearly not helping, maybe I should just stay put and let them find me." Jim muttered under his breath, checking his surrounding for any lethal plants that may poison him or cause him to go into anapylactic shock.

So far, so good.

He decided to set up camp beside the obnoxious looking tree. In fact, this tree seems to be the only one unique among the other trees. It's also quite odd how this tree was the only one bent in such a way and growing beautiful vibrant flowers of different shapes and colors too.

Quite odd indeed.

Jim's curiosity took hold of him and he stepped closer to the tree, entranced by the colorful flora and when he touched a pretty blue petal he gasped in pleasant surprise when the flowers all bloomed and glowed in luminescence.

Slowly one by one each flower 'flew' gracefully away, as if carried by an invisible wind. They circled him and if he wasn't so enchanted by their glow he would have felt threatened or wary.

Alas, he was taken in too much by their enchantment and when they slowly dissolved into powder and he inhaled some of them, he fell into their trap and darkness embraced him.

That's how both Spock and Bones found him. Lying on his side curled up to the odd curved tree, surrounded by glowing, colorful flower petals, deeply asleep as if nothing happened.

He looked like he belonged with how the tree and the petals all wrapped around him possessively.

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones reacted faster and was beside the sleeping captain, reaching for his tricorder and scanning Jim's vitals almost immediately.

Spock was slower but also more cautious as he observed the hold of the thin branches around his captain's waist and appendages. They were as thick as his fingers and held small thorns outwards but nothing pierced the skin and clothes of his captain, as if by design. The flowers all bloomed prettily, surrounding him like a painting, enhancing his beauty with their own. He almost looked ethereal with their eerie glow.

"Vitals all stable, he doesn't seem to be hurt anywhere, but Spock look." Bones tilted the tricorder so Spock could see the screen better. "His mental readings are off the charts! It's like he's fully awake and conscious but also asleep and unconscious at the same time!" Bones set aside his tricorder and went to touch Jim's pulse but before he could a thin branch slapped his hand away. "Ow! What the hell!" He flinched away in shock as the single tree branch wagged at him, it looked as if it was scolding them for touching what was theirs.

"Fascinating."

Bones glared at Spock. "Fascinating, my ass! It just hut me for trying to touch Jim, Spock! How are we supposed to get our fool captain back, huh?!"

Spock hmned in thought, standing up straight and observed the tree with renewed insight, settling both hands behind his back. He took a step closer to the tree, circling it as he observed the markings and the branches.

"Doctor. I believe this particular tree is the only being sentient in this planet. It would seem that it is the planet's 'god'. It's branches and roots go deep below and by the markings found around it's bark, it seems to have nerve endings and it uses its branches and roots to distribute energy all across the planet. This, however, does not explain why it has become attached to our captain." Spock informed, inquisitive eyes still roaming around the mess and tangle of roots and branches.

Bones gaped in shock. "So what now? What was the use of telling me all that information, Spock? It doesn't help us save Jim!" The doctor growled, waving his hands above his head in a slight panic. This planet was starting to give him the heebie jeebies.

"I reassure you, Doctor, we will find a way to get Jim back. For now, however, it might help if I delve into this being's mind and search for answers there, it's consciousness should help us find the answer we seek."

Bones gaped for what felt like the upteenth time tbat night. "Are you out of your Vulcan mind?! What if this tree sucks you in too, huh?! I can't rescue the both of you! What am I going to do, chop the tree?! Dammit I'm a doctor, not a tree chopper!" The flailing has gotten worse now.

Spock quirked his brow in that 'Spock' way and Bones glared back. "It is sentient doctor but not malicious. I will be merely conversing with the being in hopes of reaching a diplomatic end for all our sakes." He glanced down at the beautiful heart stopping scene before them. At Jim's beautiful sleeping face framed by elegant fluorescent flowers. "It is, what Jim would have done."

Bones sighed and calmed a bit at that statement. Running a hand over his face in exasperation, he knows Spock is right. It is what Jim would have done. That fool.

He too, looked down at Jim and marveled at how wonderful he looked, so angelic and so different from when he is awake. But he would have preferred to have his bratty conscious and chatty Jim back than this pretty sculpture.

"Go, get him back to us." Bones muttered, equally concerned for Spock being lost in that mental maze but just as trusting Spock to get Jim back from wherever his consciousness has gone to.

Spock touched the bark and he too fell asleep, but unlike Jim, the tree has not moved to wrap Spock into its embrace.

A few beats of silence and both Spock and Jim awakens. Spock standing up to help Bones in freeing Jim from the loosening branches.

Jim was still groggy from the 'sleep' and so allowed himself to be pulled by his two senior officers. "Wha' 'appened?" He slurred, eyes droopy and mouth slack, he felt like he slept forever and his legs feel like jelly, in fact his whole body feel like jelly, tok soft and loose.

Spock decided to carry Jim instead, for the captain's ease. He held one hand under Jim's knees and one on his back to help him balance, Jim unconsciously wound his arms around Spock's neck and laid his head on the warm chest, feeling like he lost too much time in that 'sleep'.

Bones had, once again, started checking him over with his tricorder and relaxed a bit when the result came out positive, all vitals clear.

It was Spock who answered his question as they walked away from the quirky tree, back to the coordinates that would allow them to transport back to the Enterprise.

"The Tree is allured by your beauty and mind and wished to marry you. Hence it has encased you into a deep sleep, so that it may have you forever in its embrace. I have convinced it to let you go as you have already bonded and to have you stay it's bride would not bode well for both you, I or Leonard."

Spock's deep voice was doing wonders to Jim's sleep drugged mind and he grinned dopily at Bones's growl of possessiveness. "It has agreed to let you go and leave with us, with no altercation. Although, it seems to be quite attached to you still."

Spock gestured down to Jim's wrist and wrapped around his right wrist was a blooming glowing blue flower, vividly blue, matching the color of his eyes. "Aww, it gave me a gift! Maybe I can pot it and it can be our pet!" Jim mumbled excitedly, although lacking in the normal energy he would normally have from the events that transpired a while ago.

Bones glared at the plant. "If that thing decides to grow as big as it's parent and decide to 'marry' you, I will burn it. Happily."

Jim gave Bones an affectionate smile. "Why, Bones. So brutal to this baby flora."

"Brutal, my ass, it's mother almost rendered you into sleeping beauty!"

They bickered all the way back to the Enterprise.

Back in the forest, in the center, where the tree stood proudly. A single blue flower glowed, just as blue as Jim's blue eyes.

Chapter Text

Day 11: Wings

Aziraphale has pretty white wings.

Not like his, black and ugly… tainted.

Crowley stares at the pure white wings that his angel sometimes brings out for the occasional brushing and cleaning. He would stare longingly as those pudgy, soft fingers wound around downy feathers to straighten and smoothen any wayward feathers in place.

It was extremely relaxing but also he felt his own neglected wings twitch, wishing that his angel would also do the same for him. But his own pair is just too ugly to show in front of his angel. He'd rather keep them hidden, just like his eyes.

So, it was with great surprise when his angel approached him with a black brush and towel set, eyes hardened into determined sapphires as he stares down at Crowley.

"Angel?"

"Show me your wings, Crowley." His tone was set hard like stone. Crowley gulped in nervousness.

"W-what?"

"Show me your wings, you haven't been taking good care of them, and I fear they are in badly need of cleaning and pampering, dear." His tone softened a bit at the end, eyes giving him a warm encouraging glance, he sighed and luxuriated under that stare for a bit before willing his wings to emerge.

They are, indeed, quite unruly, and in badly need of cleaning and sorting through the mess of tangled feathers.

Some are even falling off, barely hanging off from their roots.

Aziraphale tuts in displeasure and begins plucking those feathers off first, his touch gentle and careful as he removes each uprooted feather. Then he started brushing them back into order as if this was a job he was made to do.

Crowley almost purred under those skillful hands, body leaning ever so closer to Aziraphale with pleased hums, eyes softly falling close as he left himself get lost in the gentle caress.

It was quite nice.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of them, dear. They are beautiful wings, they are very much a part of you as you are to me and I will love them just as much as I love you too." Aziraphale whispered softly, plump lips grazing against his neck, the whispered words tickling the fine hairs on his nape, making him shiver in pleasure.

"Oh, angel… you'll be the death of me, I swear." Crowley muttered, eyes fluttering open to find his shades in his angel's hand and his golden snake like gaze meeting beautiful ethereal blue.

"Crowley…" His angel gave him a charmed and shy smile, a soft blush spreading across adorable chubby cheeks.

Crowley couldn't help but sigh and bring his angel close for a sweet chaste kiss. "I love you too, angel."

And they spent the day in each other's arms, their contrasting wings encasing them in black and white.

A beautiful combo.

Chapter Text

Day 12: Pumpkins

It was close to Halloween. That means a lot of pumpkin inspired things.

He was so sick of them and the month is barely even over.

Pumpkin Soup. Pumpkin Spice Latte. Pumpkin Tarts.

Too many pumpkins, not enough meat!

They're not even supposed to be having this much pumpkin inspired items, they're in fucking space! For God's sake!

Jim sighed in exasperation when their chef cheerfully greeted him a good morning and an offer of their 'famous' Pumpkin Stuffed Egg Rolls. I mean how even?

"No, thank you, just coffee please and no not the… spiced latte pumpkin thing… just plain black coffee please." The chef gave him an empathetic smile and went about getting his coffee made.

"Already sick of the massive amounts of pumpkin inspired confectionary, I see." Ah, yes. Bones, just what the doctor ordered.

Jim smiled unconsciously at hearing his good doctor's southern drawl. "Well, I don't know about you, Bones, but I was never one for vegetables. You know this. And pumpkins just happen to be a vegetable." He took his coffee with a muttered thanks and grateful smile before leaving for the bridge.

Bones many insufferable eyerolls just made him chuckle and avoid the slap aimed for his shoulder. "See you later, Bones!" He called back at Bones's answering grunt.

His journey back to the bridge was pretty short, a few officers and ensigns greeted him and he smiled at them in return. He was always warm and welcoming to his crew, even if he feels tired and weary from all the pumpkins.

At Chekov's famed call of 'Keptin on ze bridge!' He smiled indulgently and sat on his chair, looking over reports.

It was a rather quiet and boring shift. Which is a welcome from last week's mayhem of adventures, so he was pretty glad that today was going to end on an uneventful note at the least.

At the end of his shift, he finished a couple more reports while the rest of his crew bid him farewell. Once everyone has left, he gathered his stuff and headed for his room, making a small stop by the mess hall for another shot of coffee. He had more reports to sort through, so sleep would have to wait.

He was pleasantly surprised, however, when he arrived back to him room. Both Bones and Spock was there, standing in front of his bed, both had hands behind their backs and he gave them both suspicious looks.

"What are you both planning?" He cautiously placed his padds on his office table and stood behind the desk, feeling more reassured to have the table in between him and his two most trusted officers.

Don't get him wrong, he trusts these two men with his life. But he knows a diabolical plan when he sees it, and he'd much rather settled into his reports than do anything funky, especially considering this morning's greeting about pumpkins.

"Well, we both know about your aversion to pumpkins, so I suggested to Spock, why not change your mind? Make it a bit fun, so you'd enjoy the treat a tiny smidge." The gleamed of mischief in those hazel eyes would have been quite charming if they weren't planning something for Jim.

Spock nodded his head and brought out a whole pumpkin. "It is to my knowledge that it is typical of terran tradition to carve out facial features on this particular vegetable, a form of terran holiday celebrating what is known to be spectral figures and mythical beings of darkness."

Jim snorted a laugh at that lengthy response from his First Officer.

Of course, no one expected any less coming from Spock.

Bones quirked a brow at the Vulcan and revealed what he held in his hands, a few utensils for carving out pumpkins. "Anyways, I thought, maybe you'd like to slow down a bit and carve out pumpkins instead of doing your 'boring' paperwork. Maybe, you'll develop a liking for the plants." The imaginary air quotes surrounding the word boring was not lost on both Jim and Spoco.

"Doubtful. But I'm amazed at you calling my paperwork boring. So you do admit that they are boring, then?" Jim fired back with a cheeky grin, deciding that he was safer now that they've shown their hands, quite literally, and approached both of his favorite men.

"Indeed, I am just as surprised to find such vocabulary, doctor. You never seemed to deem important documents as 'boring' before." The imaginary air quotes were also not lost in Spock's tone.

Damn, both of his blue shirted men are snarky today.

"Okay, alright. Enough banter, let's get carving then!" Jim interrupted before Bones could retaliate, he got a withering glare from the doctor for his efforts but his grateful smile softened those sharp hazel eyes into an answering smile.

"Yes, I do believe the doctor has experience in carving this particular plant. He has expressed multiple variations of face structures. However, this shall be your choice, Jim." Spock offered the pumpkin to Jim and he thought for a long while, face scrunching up in thought.

The moment the bright idea sparked in his mind, he knew both Spock and Bones will like it too.

After an extensive lesson in pumpkin carving and getting cleaned up, all three of them curled up on the couch with warm mugs of pumpkin spice lattes, feet propped up on the coffee table and occasionally nudging each other's foot, rubbing playfully against one another.

On said coffee table, was the pumpkin they carved featuring silhouettes of the bridge crew carve on the 'face' of the pumpkin.

Chapter Text

Day 13: Reptiles

Sherlock doesn't have many fears. Neither does John.

So he assumed Rosie would be the same.

Bad idea.

You see, he brought home a 'pet' for his adorable goddaughter. Only, the 'pet' was cute or cuddly at all.

It had scaly skin, small claws, an abnormally long tongue and it's eyes could go 360 degrees.

In short, Sherlock brought home a box of baby chameleons because some odd woman gifted it to him for helping her solve her problems.

He sort of wanted to impress Rosie with the majestic creatures, their ability to change skin color and blend in would have been quite a novelty for a 4 year old to observe.

Well, maybe for a 4 year old Sherlock sure. But apparently not for a 4 year old Rosie.

Sherlock winced as Rosie wailed, the high pitched cries was getting quite out of hand, already he was getting evil looks from strangers, and he didn't want to disappoint John.

"Ssshh, Rosie, look they're not scary. They are reptiles that are part of the iguana family. They can change colors!" He tried in vain to make the poor scared little girl stop crying that he didn't notice when John sighed, already nudging him aside.

"Here, let me do it." John muttered, then his tone changed to a more upbeat and happier one as he gently rocked his daughter against his chest, carrying him far away from Sherlock, from the box of reptiles, for the moment, making cooing sounds and allowed her to play with his hand.

Sherlock sat slumped on a park bench, the box of forgotten chameleons on his lap, he stared down at them, they stared right back at him, as if to say 'way to go genius'. Then they all scuttled and minded their business, ignoring him for each other, occasionally changing colors.

"I am not good at this."

"That, you are not. But that's okay, I wasn't any better at it, in the beginning as well." John was back and Rosie was calm and busy cooing about the pretty blue flower in her hand. John must have picked it for her.

He sat beside Sherlock, settling Rosie down on his lap and carefully nudging the box with the chameleons aside so his daughter won't see the reptiles and go into another crying fit.

Sherlock took the hint and set the box down on the grass beside the baby stroller. He gave Rosie a tentative glance, hoping he hasn't scarred the child away from him for life.

Thankfully, Rosie still loved him, despite his misgivings, and made gabby hand motions for him to carry her. John gave her an adoring smile and held her in offer for him to carry.

Sherlock took her into his arms and settled her gently unto his lap like how John taught him, many times before. "I'm sorry, Rosie. I'll return the reptiles tom, I promise to never scare you like that ever again." He nuzzled into her soft blonde locks and she giggled happily, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

John smiled at them both, his two favorite people in the world. "See? She still loves you, Sherlock. Just give her something else next time. This is just trial and error. But if you do make a mistake, always say sorry and they will always come back to you. They're precious like that." He lovingly caressed his daughter's cheek, giving it a soft nudge and she giggled.

Sherlock smiled, staring down into beautiful blue eyes, so similar to her father's. "Yes, they are."

The next day, the box of chameleons had a new loving home.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft's shout was almost palpable from all corners of the world.

Chapter Text

Day 14: Books

Aziraphale has a lot of books in his shop.

He has collected a lot through the years. From prophetic books to sciences to fiction and art. He has a lot.

But he has never thought of ever acquiring a… particular… type of book before. It's genre is quite… unique and to be frank, no one's ever requested a copy before either so he has never bought one.

But… he gets very curious. And they don't seem to be that harmful. I mean, surely, if it were read for merely observation and nothing else, it wouldn't be counted as wrong? Right?

Right! Of course! This is purely for observation, merely to satisfy a curiosity, nothing else!

Aziraphale is most definitely not reading pornography because Gabriel said it that one time and he got curious after Crowley mentioned sex.

Nope, of course not.

So, with a flourish, Aziraphale cautiously grabbed the box that the mailman gave him, it was a plain cardboard box, very unassuming. However, Aziraphale knows this contains the said pornography he ordered last week.

He closed up shop rather early, took the box back with him upstairs to his bedroom and settled on the couch for a long, experimental read.

It was… quite… knowledgeable… if you could call that knowledge. But even as his cheeks were burning and he felt like he was going to combust from embarrassment, he couldn't bring himself to throw the 'book' away.

So he hid it behind a bunch of old math books that no one seems to like.

His days moved on, and he almost forgot about the book.

That is until, Crowley found the book.

How could the demon have found in buried under all that junk about ancient mathematical equations, Aziraphale didn't know, but his cheeks burned with the same embarrassment he felt the last time he saw that particular paperback.

"C-Crowley! Wh-here did you get that?" Aziraphale stuttered, feeling very hot all of the sudden.

Crowley smirked, a mischievous gleam shinning behind golden snake eyes, he had taken off his shades just so he could stare down into his angel's ethereal blue eyes as he showed him this naughty naughty book. "Well, well, well, angel. Fancy my surprise finding this in your shop? Not so innocent, hm?"

Aziraphale gulped, he took a step back when Crowley started to step closer. He knew he was being backed into a corner by Crowley but he couldn't seem to escape. Those yellow eyes were very enthralling, but at the same time he feels entirely ashamed for what he has hidden.

"I-I… it's not what you think! I got curious! Gabriel said something about pornography that one time and so-so I got curious! And-and!" He was stammering and he wasn't making any sense, but he couldn't stop.

Crowley sighed and place a finger over his angel's lips, stopping the senseless mutterings. He gave him a fond smile. "You're so cute, angel. If you wanted to know so much about porn, you could have asked me, Angel. I'm a demon, I know all and everything about sex. Practically made for it." He drawled, now softly touching Aziraphale's cheeks, he couldn't stop touching them even if he wanted to, they're just so soft and smooth to the touch.

Aziraphale blushed harder, if possible. "I-I didn't want to bother you! And I wasn't even supposed to read it, it's bad and I'm an angel! I should have never bought that book!" He was too embarrassed and leaned away from Crowley's gentle caress to bury his shamed face in his hands.

Crowley tsked and brought his angel into an embrace, not caring if he dropped the porn on the floor. "It's okay to be curious angel. There's nothing wrong with it! And hey, you're still an angel! So that means you didn't do anything wrong! You'd make an awful demon anyways. Too pissy and uptight for us demons." He chuckled heartily at that.

Aziraphale chuckled along with him. "You're right, I'd make such an awful demon. For one thing, you demons have no sense of taste in fashion!" Hr cheekily gave Crowley a grin at that.

Crowley mock gasped in offense. "Why, I never!" Then they both ended up laughing at their ridiculous shenanigans.

Aziraphale picked up the porn, with it's gaudy front page cover of a naked woman in white lace undergarments. "I suppose I should throw this away now. I really have no use for it and I don't want it being picked up by strangers, God forbid, Gabriel."

Crowley smirked and snatched the porn. "Leave it to me, angel."

---

Gabriel didn't know how the… offensive item managed to end up on his desk, but there it was, in all it's splendid blasphemy.

The very voluptuous woman in white lace underwear stared up at him saucily from the front page and Gabriel feels like sending all the heavenly fires against the sinful item.

He will have words with his mailman, this is unacceptable!

Chapter Text

Day 15: Pajamas

Aziraphale loves pajamas.

Crowley does not.

Too many layers, too many buttons, he'd rather wear a pair of boxers and a shirt and be done with it.

Of course, Aziraphale is a proper gentleman so he goes full tilt english on everything.

He has the full set, with matching hats, yes with the fluffy balls on the ends.

Crowley finds it both ridiculous and cute.

It's a very conflicting feelings and he still doesn't know if he should be annoyed about it or not.

Because on the one hand, his angel is super fluffy and sure the material of the pajamas just enhances his angel's softness, making sleeping together both relaxing and comfy.

But also at the same time.

"Angel, it's so annoying how you insist on wearing this stupid clothes!" Crowley growls in between kisses.

Because pajamas also mean, fun times will be harder to get to, what with removing them makes it an extra step longer to get into the action part.

Aziraphale chuckles, he always does and kissed Crowley on the nose. "Yes, yes. Let me do it, dear." He flipped them over so he was straddling his demon's waist and got to removing his clothes. "There, better?"

Skin on skin, yes much better.

Crowley growled and bit into Aziraphale's soft neck, nibbling and laying soft kisses in between. "Perfect."

Chapter Text

Day 16: Enchanted

Bright golden hair framed closed eyelids, very much like a golden halo. Black onyx eyes trailed down soft tresses to observe delicate eyelashes fanned against pale smooth skin, slightly rosy with a hint of a blush.

He was tempted to touch them, sliding his fingers over the ivory skin in hopes of making sure they were as smooth and soft as they looked.

But he did not.

Instead he glided his eyes down to stare at plump pink lips, soft, succulent and kissable. He licked his own, whetting them from the sudden dryness he feels from his throat. A sudden urge to kiss them overwhelms him but he took a gasping breath to steady himself from performing such vulgarity upon this unconscious man.

But clearly it was a hard won battle to fight against his instincts to claim this man as his. This sleeping man, delicate beauty in soft masculine lines and ethereal glow.

He felt like he was in the presence of an angel.

Slumbering in peace, unbeknownst to the world, without fear or sorrow, untouched by hate and despair.

He was so tempted…

But no.

He will not defile this man. This wonderful, gorgeous man, with such perverse acts.

No. He deserves more than a kiss.

Resolved in finding a way to break this enchantment that befalls this unfortunate beauty. He stands from his kneeling position on the marbled flooring and turns to leave only to be faced with a terrifying sight.

A low growl rumbles, dark menacing eyes beheld his shocked, terror filled gaze.

This was not a man!

This is… this is a…

"Beast." He gasped and just as the words left his lips, said beast came barreling forward, pouncing on top of him with a feral wild growl.

"How dare you enter this place?! How did you get inside?! Answer me!" Growled the beast with a slight twang of something, he didn't know what but it felt wrong, like the beast's vocal chords should not sound that way. Growly and coarse like rough fibers and sharpened rocks.

"I was sent by my father, King Sarek in hopes of entering into diplomatic relations with the House of Kirk. I was lost and found myself entering this room, I… I apologize for trespassing, I did not intend to cause you alarm with my presence here. I was merely…" His eyes sought the sleeping form of the enchanting man. "I want to help him."

Surprisingly, his voice did not crack from the strain against his neck with the beast holding him captive, a furry massive arm locked against his windpipe while sharp claws dug against the soft fabrics of his princely robes.

Sharp, cautious hazel eyes narrowed at this admission from him, and he would not blame the beast if he did not believe his words. He was a stranger to these lands, who knows if his intentions are innocent or malevolent in nature.

"I don't trust you."

"Believe me, my intentions are innocent in nature. I do not intend to manipulate you or to defile your companion, I only wish to release the Crown Prince from his curse."

Hazel eyes widened in shock then narrowed once more in wary caution. "So you know who he is." He was finally let go and he straightened his robes, a habit he has adopted from years as the heir apparent of a royal duty.

"What else do you know?" Was the grumbled question.

He tilted his head in query, he did not understand the question. Most people already know of the state of the House of Kirk. The kingdom has fallen into ruin and despair under the unjust rule of Khan, the usurper.

And the Crown Prince, the pride and joy of the House of Kirk. The Prince that led them to victory against Nero… was reduced as Prince Consort after his mother's death, orchestrated by none other than Khan himself.

It was no secret that the Warlock's intention was the throne and more so to wed and bed the Crown Prince and make his rule official.

It was a perversity beyond imagination.

First to wed and bed the Queen mother and then kill her slowly, torturously. Then to wed and bed the son.

Scandalous!

But it was done.

Unfortunately, or rather, fortunately. Prince Kirk was as stubborn and prideful as his father. He refused to wed Khan even under torture and so he was cursed to sleep forever.

And this beast…

Everyone knew the guard dog that watches, ever faithful and ever vigilant, over the Prince's form everyday and night.

Doctor Leonard McCoy…

The Kirk family doctor… and Prince James's sole childhood friend.

His father sent him in hopes of finding news of how they would be able to best help the Prince execute a rebellion and save as many people as possible, under the guise of a diplomatic alliance.

In truth, the House of Surak and the House of Kirk have long been secret allies, and Lord Pike has also sought their help in rescuing his godson, the Prince.

"I mean, how much do you know of breaking the curse? If you expect to help save him, you better start doing your research, because I cannot leave his side, that is the extension of my curse. So you will have to do everything yourself."

Ah, that.

"I have no knowledge of how to best remove the enchantment placed upon him. However, I can move much more freely than you, it is indeed better for me to gather as much information as possible regarding both your curses. In this way, we will be able to maximize our escape opportunities with three intelligent beings working against one."

The beast quirked a brow at him and huffed. "Better go get started then, he comes back every night to check on us, and it won't do us any favors if he sees you here, scheming against him with me."

He nodded his head in agreement. "Very well, I shall take my leave, I will come back tomorrow with more information to impart… Doctor." He gave the beast one last nod and left.

Vulcans do not feel but he couldn't help the tendril of hope gripping his heart.

He really wishes to save the Prince, if Pike is to be believed then he is the one.

'Wait for me, t'hy'la. I will save you… both of you.'

Chapter Text

Day 17: Ring

That's a ring.

There's a ring in his kitchen cabinet.

There's an engagement ring in his kitchen cabinet.

At first he was confused when he found the navy blue velvet box behind some old forgotten cereal boxes.

He doubted that it would have been an engagement ring because, come on, who would ever want to marry him. But then again, maybe it isn't even for him.

But then again, who would it be for?

So he took a deep breath and opened the clasp.

Yep, definitely an engagement ring.

It's a pretty beautiful ring though. Not too gaudy and not too understated. It was platinum white metal band, slim and shined to perfection, in the middle were three small deep blue round brilliant cut sapphire crystals forming a straight line.

He wanted so badly to pluck it out from it's perch and fit it into his ring finger just to see if it fit, but he held back. He wasn't even sure if this ring is for him.

Maybe it's an old one from Bones's ex, Joss. But it couldn't be, he knew for a fact that Bones ranted to him about the fact that Joss never returned to him his mother's engagement ring, even if it were an heirloom, because they didn't have pre nuptials to talk about returning it if in case they divorced. They were young, and divorce was an idea far from both of their minds then.

Also the box may have been dusty but it wasn't old looking, it still looked brand new, give or take a few months, at the least.

So…

Is it even Bones's to begin with?

Maybe it belonged to Spock?

I mean Spock did want to bond with Uhura. Maybe this was intended for her. And when they both broke up, he just never returned the ring, so he just kept it, but hid it far away in a place where no one would find it?

That one sounded more plausible. So he shrugged and placed the box back where he found it, confident that, it wasn't an engagement ring meant for him and that he was only thinking too much into this.

He was happy with what they have.

They were happy with what they have.

They've got a good thing going right now.

Sure, they're not married to each other but they have bonded together, in the Vulcan sense, that counts as marriage already so...

He's happy without an Earth wedding/marriage.

He doesn't like all the pomp and circumstance that comes with Earthly weddings anyways. Too much of everything and not much of what really matters.

At least, that's what he tells himself as he leaves the kitchen with his bowl of cereal.

---

It was a few days before the thought of the almost forgotten engagement ring comes back to haunt him.

He'd been busy with work and the preparations for the Enterprise A's maiden voyage. All the work on her is done and now they just need to basically make some last minute checks on her and then the routine orbit before they officially start their other half of the 5 year mission.

He was in a hurry to get something to eat and the easiest to grab and make was cereal, and so, once again, he was faced with the velvet box.

He wasn't alone this time though.

"Jim, we can explain." That was Bones's southern drawl, thick with anxiety.

"Leonard is correct, we can provide a truthful answer to our schemes." And Spock's lengthy Vulcan comments.

"I… what?" He was deeply confused now. He was so sure…

"We planned it to be a surprise. But I told Spock here not to put it in the kitchen cabinet, because you could find it there." Bones explained, unhelpfully, because he was still confused. Said southern gentleman though gave Spock an accusing glare.

"Hiding the ring in the top left corner of the kitchen cabinet meant for long overdue processed cereal grains is simply logical, as evidenced, no one has taken the boxes of Earthly confections in a year." Spock's defense was sound but that still doesn't help answer anything.

"Dammit, Jim! You've been eating these cereals? They're expired! You could get food poisoning from that!" Bones screeched, grabbing all the boxes and checking the expiration dates, indeed, every single one was expired.

In his defense, they're barely expired for a month! So he's still clear to eat them! Technically…

"Stop." He held up a hand and both of his lovers stopped quarreling. He furrowed his brow in confusion and sighed, rubbing his forehead in hopes of easing the oncoming headache. "Explain again, but from the start, please. One at a time." He held up a finger when he saw both of them open their mouths. "Spock, please."

Bones scoffed at being brushed off so easily, crossing his arms over his chest, his typical scowl back in place, creasing a tanned forehead.

He gave him an apologetic but fond look. Bones's scowl eased a little, his eyes shown warmth and affection.

He once again faced Spock and gave a nod.

Spock gave a small one back. "Leonard has explained human marriage to me and I had enquired as to its cultural impact among human couples. I had wondered, if you would have wanted us to bond in such a way as well. We have only bonded in the Vulcan way, and since you and Leonard are fully human, and I am half human, I had assumed you would want to engage in a human marriage as well."

Oh boy…

Well… fuck…

So, he was right.

He took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs, just focusing his attention on breathing.

Okay, so, Spock wants them to get married. What about Bones?

This time, he looked at Bones. "And you? You wanna marry my ass too?"

Bones gulped but nodded, hazel eyes conveyed both a sense of caution and truth, something that might have to do with the fact that the doctor has already gone through a divorce.

So, he could just imagine going through one again. Not to mention, there's three of them this time.

"I was in on it too. Spock asked me if you would have liked the idea and honestly I wasn't sure so we thought to just pick a ring first and get a feel for if you would be open to the idea of marriage first or not before we sprung the question on you. But yes, Jim. I would love to marry you too. I know my last one sucked and ended in well, tragedy is saying it too much but it wasn't pretty. But I trust you. Yes, even the hobgoblin."

Bones gave Spock a cheeky grin at the nickname, but it was mild from the stress lines of anxiety and caution.

Spock only quirked his brow at the doctor but stared back at him, meeting his blue eyes with such a penetrating stare, like he was trying to figure out if he would say yes or no. "I too, would be amenable to marry you, Jim."

Oh, damn Spock.

Damn Bones too.

In fact damn them both!

Cheeky sons of bitches, they planned this whole thing! He was agonizing over this stupid ring for a week! Welll, okay, maybe not a week, because of all the work for the oncoming voyage for the Enterprise A, but still! He agonized over it!

He honestly wanted to prolong their suffering a little, but in his deepest heart, he already knew what he was going to say.

He sighed and met both their stares with a soft fond smile. "Of course, I'd say yes. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Both Spock and Bones relaxed visibly. Bones giving a sigh of relief and a smile filled with loving adoration, while Spock's shoulders were less tense and his facial features smoothed into a less severe state.

He took the box from the cabinet and flipped it open, staring down at the ring. Now he could see where both of his lovers tastes merged to form this ring for him.

The thinness of the band was obviously from Spock while the metal must have been Bones's suggestion. The color and cut of the sapphires were an obvious choice.

He glanced up to give both of his fiances a grin. "So which one of you will put the ring on my finger?"

They all laughed at that.

In the end he put the ring on himself. The crystal shined bright under the light.

A deep blue matching his eyes and his two favorite science men.

Chapter Text

Day 18: A Bridge

There was a small bridge built that connected the south of the park to the north end, it wasn't a big bridge by any means, it was tiny and served no other purpose other than aesthetics and that children really loved to walk over the wooden thing to peak in between mahogany posts to stare down at koi fishes and turtles, sometimes feed the ducks.

It's a pretty useless thing to be honest, but today it serves something worthwhile.

The mini bridge, along with a couple of parents and their children, as well as the rest of the flora and fauna, are subjected to the image of a demon kneeling down to one knee in humble proposal to the pleasantly surprised visage of an angel.

"I know it's been six thousand years since we've met, and it feels far longer than that that we've known each other. I know that we've had senseless stupid fights and that sometimes I annoy you, you annoy me too, with your stupid magic tricks and ineffable taste for fashion. But, angel… will you marry me?" Crowley gently opened the velvet box and neatled inside soft silver white satin folds was a white platinum band, simplistic in design with naught a gem in sight, except for the words engraved inside the ring.

Ineffably Yours. Ineffably Mine.

Aziraphale's heart stuttered with a sudden burst of tenderness and love.

"Oh, Crowley… yes!" He brought his beloved demon forwards into an affectionate kiss. Sweet and tender and not at all like many of their others.

"Yes, dear, my answer is yes." He whispered softly, their breaths mingling as they both stared at each other with warm affection.

Crowley blushed a beautiful shade of red, beaming as if he won all the treasures of the world, and indeed he must have for nothing could ever beat his angel in worth.

He took Aziraphale's hand in his and slowly slipped the ring into his angel's ring finger. Binding them temporarily until the wedding.

Or rather binding them physically, metaphorically speaking, it seemed they have been bonded for years.

Six thousand years to be exact.

Chapter Text

Day 19: Swing

Everything needs to be perfect. He had everything ready, his men were ready and he was ready. He double checked everything just to be sure, even checked his pockets just to be sure he had the item there.

Good, everything is set.

The plan was to have a nice day out with both John and Rosie, devoid of the more dangerous cases. He picked just the right one, even the right level to have Rosie enjoy the case work too.

Of course, he had already solved the case but John and Rosie don't know that so it doesn't matter. What matters is that everything should go according to plan.

He planted the item into one of his interlopers who went ahead and planted it on the suspect.

John apprehended the suspect before he could bolt, pushing the man down right beside them, Rosie, six years old and on the swings pointed at the suspect with a scowl befitting the Watson gene and growled out in her 'grown up' voice: bad man!

Sherlock beamed with pride at her as if she were his own daughter, in a way, she was.

John gave her a small smile, hauling the man up by the arm he had pinned against the man's own back. "Up you get, you should be ashamed of yourself, pushing a girl, never seen such bullying since the dark ages."

Sherlock grinned, his 'sociopath' smile. "And stealing too, go ahead Rosie, check the bad man for any stolen valuables he might have taken from you."

Rosie, the sweetheart nodded and jumped down from the swings that her uncle Sherlock had been pushing her against while they were watching this bad man, who pushed her and her daddy rough enough to make both of them land on their bottoms, be chased around by her daddy, vowing for righteous fury against 'the man who dared lay a hand on his daughter'.

Sherlock was perfectly willing to let the bad man be subjected to the typical 'Watson glare of doom' and 'Watson martial arts technique befitting a man of both military skill and doctoral degree'.

You see, the plan was to have this petty thief who stole both the missing golden candelabra in Mrs. Knowle's townhouse, and her missing cat (though why on earth would anyone want to kidnap a cat, or rather catnap, is out of Sherlock's range of skill sets to deduce.), have the item be implanted on the man by one of his men and watch him run around London trying to avoid authorities as Sherlock casually directs Lestrade to where said man will go until they have boxes him in here, the small park where both John and Rosie frequent for their daily walks and play time.

Sweat beaded his brow as he watched Rosie bring out the Golden Candelabra, handing it over to Lestrade who gleefully took it and bagged it for evidence. Then she went back in and this time Sherlock briefly glanced John's way, nervously watching his friend's reaction.

Hoping he wouldn't get punched this time.

The last time he surprised John, it ended with a bloody broken nose and a horrible night trying to rationalize his choice for the right thing.

This time, he hoped a much better response would happen.

Rosie brought out her hand and opened her palm to the sight of a ring.

Lestrade's eyebrows went up in confusion.

The culprit gave a gasp of shock. "Hey! I ain't stole no engagement rings!"

Now even John was confused, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he still had a good hold on the thief's arms, his training not betraying him in the least. "If you didn't steal it then… what-?" He was interrupted before he could finish by Sherlock, who stepped forward, plucked the ring on Rosie's palm and kneeled down on one knee in front of John.

Now, everyone was visibly shocked.

Both Lestrade and the thief gaped, mouths opened so wide, flies could make a nest and a home there.

In fact everyone was gaping in shock, the only ones who didn't were Sherlock's men and Rosie.

It seems like Rosie expected as much.

John was baffled and in his shock he loosened his hold on the thief's arms.

The thief didn't run away though, still very much confused with everything going on to fully react and take his golden opportunity to run.

"Sherlock what, you can't be serious?"

Well, that was better than a punch, so far so good.

Sherlock took a small breath and began his small speech. "John, I know you're already married. I know you love Mary and I know you don't necessarily want to get married anymore. But I also know that we both love each other and I know that us getting married will be good for Rosie. For one thing, joint custody will make it easier to raise her and it is logical for the state funding and the-."

John waved his ramblings about logical pursuits of marriage aside. "I know all that already, get to the point Sherlock." There was a hint of exasperation in his voice but his eyes held a soft warm glow that was reserved only for Rosie.

Sherlock's breath came out in a whoosh at being the recipient of that tender look, he could feel a warmth spreading across his chest and he couldn't help but give one back.

"The truth is, I've entertained thoughts of marrying you, John. Of officially making you mine. We don't even need to change our surnames if you don't want to, or we could hyphenate, I don't care. I just want the whole world to know that John Watson is mine and I, his."

John released a soft breath and smiled, eyes almost teary. "Sherlock, you tit. Yes. Sure, let's get married. I hope you know going through the process of getting married, twice, will be exhausting again."

Sherlock shrugged, giving his John a winning smile as he stood back up and slipped the ring into his doctor's ring finger with a flourish.

John admired the ring, it was just a plain white gold band, slim and smooth in texture and without the bedazzle of crystals, instead it had small diamond shapes hammered in, to form a pattern of three rows, he shifted his finger under the sun and the glare bounced against the patterns.

"You do know I can't wear this when I go to work, right?" John reminded, he was a doctor and they don't wear rings, the rings could cause complications when handling patients.

Sherlock nodded and grabbed something from his pocket, a simple black leather cord to hold the ring and fashion into a necklace. "I know."

John smiled and accepted the cord. He noticed that the thief and Lestrade, as well as everyone else was still gaping at them, except for Rosie. So he rolled his eyes and gently poked his friend on the shoulder, clearing his throat to get their attention. "Greg, the culprit?"

And before the thief could run away, John grabbed the man's arm in a tight warning hold, his glare just as deadly.

Greg chuckled and handcuffed the man. "Well I'll be damned, John Watson gets to get married twice! What a player!" He patted John on the arm much to both John and Sherlock's ire and leaving to take the culprit to the precincts.

Rosie tugged on their pants leg. "Can I play on the swings again?"

Sherlock and John both melted at the adorable request.

"Of course, Rosie. Do you want me or Sherlock to push you?" John asked, leading her princess back to the swing set, on her other side Sherlock took hold of her left hand.

They really look like a proper family.

"I want papa to push me, daddy you can go buy me ice cream since you have the money." She decided, sitting on the wooden board and waiting for her papa to push her.

Sherlock almost choked in shock but merely coughed it off and began pushing her.

John smiled and went off to go buy her lady's demand for ice cream.

"Sure, darling, stay with papa while I'm gone, okay?"

"Okay!"

Sherlock absolutely melted at that, but he would deny it happened to his grave.

Chapter Text

Day 20: Movie Night

Saturdays were always Movie Nights, a perfect way to end a hectic, action packed weekend spent on curling up on the couch with warm mugs filled with tea, a bowl of cheesy popcorn and a film containing some ridiculous plot to save the world, or various there of.

This night was no different.

Except, they were due to babysit Daisy because Eggsy's mum finally have that long awaited date she had with that Major fellow.

Eggsy wasn't sure if it was a good idea to babysit Daisy and continue on with Movie Night with Harry because usually after the silly movies are done playing (sometimes barely even through act 2) they ended most nights in bed… together… entangled in a heated mass of undulating bodies.

Something definitely not pg enough for Daisy.

But Eggsy also knows that Harry Hart is a gentleman, because otherwise it wouldn't have taken said gentleman 2 years to convince to sleep with him.

So… maybe tonight won't end in some fun times in bed but Eggsy doesn't mind all that much to be honest.

"How about you choose what we will be watching for tonight, hmn?" Harry offered Daisy, showing the massive collection of films he had saved up on their hard drive.

Eggsy smiled fondly at them and set the tray of drinks and snacks on the coffee table while Daisy makes her choice.

It was oddly domestic, and it makes Eggsy feel warm all over.

Daisy, apparently having made her choice with a Princess movie (an obvious and tasteful choice), hopped on the couch beside Eggsy and they both watched Harry set up the movie before sitting beside Daisy's other side.

The film started and Eggsy almost snorted at the title.

The Princess Diaries: A Royal Engagement

Well, the irony was not lost on Eggsy.

After all, he was almost engaged once, to a princess too. He almost had his royal wedding too!

But…

His eyes flickered to Harry briefly, watching the light from the screen tv flash upon his lover's visage.

Soft brown hair flopped attractively over wide doe eyes, almost innocent in their shape but Eggsy knew how far from innocence it beheld in the throes of passion. Skin prickled with slight wrinkles due to old age but still held supple and smooth, cheeks tinting with a healthy pinkish glow.

Harry Hart, the silver fox of a gentleman was the only man who ever had Eggsy's heart to begin with.

He stole it the moment he uttered the words, 'I gave you that medal.'

He still have it now.

Even after 3 years, not counting the 1 that they all thought Harry died, Eggsy was still very much, blindly, passionately, intensely in love with Harry.

Eggsy once again focused on the film and handed Daisy her drink after noticing she was getting thirsty from eating too much cheesy popcorn.

On screen, Princess Mia was making such a fool of herself falling in love with Lord Devereaux.

Well, Eggsy wouldn't blame her, Chris Pine is such a heartthrob after all, those blue eyes, damn!

Buuuut…

Once again, Eggsy's eyes fluttered to stare (oogle!) at Harry's profile appreciatively.

Eggsy likes his men with a little experience, aged like fine wine. After all, who could blame Eggsy? Harry Hart is a catch. A proper gentleman, wealthy beyond measure but humble and kind, not to mention very attentive in bed.

Hmn, yes. Harry Hart, is a god of a man.

When the film concluded and Daisy was starting to droop in exhaustion, Eggsy picked her up, leaving Harry, who offered to clean up everything, to get her settled in her little bedroom they arranged for her.

After making sure she was fully tucked in and sleeping comfortably, he turned off the light, turned on the little white swan night light they installed for her and left her bedroom.

He was promptly snogged breathless by one silver fox.

After an intense make out session, they had travelled in that time to their bedroom, Harry gently caressed Eggsy's cheek. Eggsy leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing in contentedness.

"Eggsy… I have something to show you."

Eggsy hummed and opened his eyes, releasing his hold on Harry's waist and let the older man lead him to the small drawer by Harry's side of the bed. Harry opened the drawer, grabbed something and hid it behind his back as he faced Eggsy.

Eggsy quirked a brow, puzzled in the suspicious action but let it slide, bringing bright green eyes to meet Harry's softly tender gaze.

"I know you almost got married once, and I would have been proud to see you off become a Prince of Sweden, something, up till now, you seem to think you are undeserving of the title. But to me, Eggsy, you will always be more than capable of being a Prince, more than just a spy or a gentleman. You may think that it was I who saved you that day at the police station, but you are quite wrong in that regard. I believe, that it was you who had saved me, I could never quite tell you how much you mean to me or how much you have done for me. Trusting me then as you do now, ever faithful and loving."

Then he kneeled on one knee.

Eggsy's eyes widened in surprise.

"So, it is with a hopeful heart, I ask you." Harry brought forth a forest green velvet box and Eggsy gasped. He flicked it open gracefully and inside was the most beautiful ring Eggsy's ever seen, even prettier than the one the Major got his mum.

"Will you marry me?"

Eggsy was shocked speechless.

"Eggsy?"

At the question and slight panic in those beautiful doe eyes, Eggsy was pulled into action. He grabbed Harry and promptly kissed the man, lips and tongue and all.

When they separated, breaths mingling and eyes hazy with lust and affection, Eggsy smiled.

"Yes, sure 'arry. I'd be glad to."

The ring fits perfectly snug around his ring finger, the single princess cut emerald gem glinted under the moonlight.

Chapter Text

Day 21: Thunder Storm

Will didn't know how it came to be. How did this happen? How he became bonded… to him. Of all people.

He just couldn't get his mind around the how, much less why.

He managed to avoid getting bitten by him when he was kidnapped by Mason Verger of all people.

He even managed to avoid getting bitten by him when he was assaulted by the Tooth Fairy.

But when he intended for his suicide, for his double suicide to work, he didn't intend for his body's reaction to cause a spontaneous heat and then…

Then everything was a blur.

Of movement, of emotion, of passion…

All he could piece together was the harsh patter of rain fall on his exposed skin, of the loud crackling thunder masking his loud moans, of the scent of earthy rain as he could feel his need climb ever higher.

Then, he woke up on a rather large bed, clean and crisp as if brand new, no sign of his claiming, of the three days of senseless lust and need.

Except for the bite mark on the back of his nape. He could feel it, the thrum of pheromones and chemicals his body emits as it changes it's natural scent for a more alluring but docile one.

A claimed scent.

Tinged with the musky, earthy, pine tree that is an undertone smell of Hannibal.

Now apart of his once pure, sweet and spicy scent of chocolate and mint.

Will was at a loss for words. His heart and mind in chaos much like how his heat came about during that cursed thunderstorm.

What does he do?

Is there even anything he can do?

Does he even want to do anything about it?

He… doesn't know…

All he knows is. He now belongs to the world's deadliest man alive.

And a small sadistic part of him felt thrilled about being owned in such a blatant and unbreakable way.

Chapter Text

Day 22: Soft

Crowley has an affinity for soft things.

He just prefers not to admit it out loud.

Things like smooth silky blankets, cotton bed sheets, and most of all, comfy plush pillows.

So it isn't a wonder that he would find Aziraphale's figure favorable.

After all, the angel is the very definition of soft and cuddly.

Rounded and delicate, with squishy love handles and thicc thighs that can render anyone into a gentle but comfortable anaphylactic shock.

Yes, that sounds pretty bad, but it's the truth.

Plus those eyes, big doe eyes, ever so blue, like delicate snowflakes in the first few days of winter. But warm and welcoming, loving like the tender caress of the blue carribean waves.

The eyelashes, golden blonde and almost sparkling under the sunlight, add more to the overall image of dainty and soft.

So yes, Crowley is very much attached to soft. Especially if said soft happens to be his angel.

"Crowley?"

"Mhm?"

"Don't you have better things to do than to lay on my lap all day?"

"Hmn, no."

"Oh. Well, it can't be comfortable, you should sleep back upstairs on a proper bed."

"No, it's alright, your thighs are comfy enough. Mn, soft."

An amused chuckle and Crowley's smile was ever that tender and infatuated, hidden between soft pliable thicc thighs.

Chapter Text

Day 23: Baking

He used to bake with his mother when he was a child. They'd make peach cobbler pies as is famous in their land of Georgia. The sweet smell of the fruit with permeate through the air and his mouth would start to water with want.

It was a nice memory that he would always lool back on every summer. Even while he had that horrible divorce and even now that he is in space.

But the scent that he currently smells, is anything but sweet and mouth-watering delicacy that is a perfectly made peach cobbler pie.

No, this is the smell of disaster.

Bones sighs in acquished irritation as he blows the fire away with the extinguisher. It's a good thing his apartment had one, or else he might have to call for the fire department and he'd rather avoid that as much as possible.

Even if it means having his husband explain his stupidity to the authorities.

Said husband though, was looking forlornly at the mess that is the blackened charcoal that was supposed to be a pie.

It's such a sad image that Bones's tirade died on his throat before he could even yell it out loud for the whole world to know.

Damn Jim, and damn his stupid blue eyes.

Eyes so blue, like the sky on Georgian summer days. It was both familiar and distant.

But they were always his one weakness.

So with his wrath crumbling, he set aside the extinguisher and sat down beside his husband on the floor, in front of the mess of black pieces.

"So, am I to assume that this is your way of trying to make me a cobbler? Because let's admit it, Jimmy, you don't have what it takes to bake."

Jim snorted but nodded his head in agreement. "I'm with you there." Then he glanced briefly at Bones with a sort of remorseful guilty look on his face. "Sorry that I made a mess of everything. It looked so easy on paper… but apparently not."

Bones was the one who snorted now. "Oh believe me, if it were that easy, I would have tried making it myself. But I could always try to make one again, I could even teach you... if you want." He gave Jim a small hopeful look, hidden under a disregarding shrug.

Jim smiled, no, he beamed with such intensity, rivaling the hottest, brightest sun. "That would be great!" Then he pecked Bones on the cheek and proceeded to clean up his mess.

Bones touched his cheek with wonder in his hazel eyes.

Well, maybe baking could be enjoying again.

Chapter Text

Day 24: Apples

It wasn't always called the Apple of Eden, that's a fallacy that some people always like to commit.

But Aziraphale never bothered to change or correct what they continually believe to be the fruit that lead humanity to sin.

No, he didn't bother, because apples are capable of doing that too.

Leading people to sin that is.

I mean, this particular desert filled with luscious fresh apples, hand picked from the finest barns, is almost close enough to make him, an angel, commit the blasphemous sin that is gluttony.

Mind, Aziraphale may be… rotund and round but he is not a glutton.

He just has an exquisite taste for all things wonderful and delicious.

A connoisseur, if you will.

Now, Crowley would beg to differ.

How many times has he saved his angel's ass from harm just because of his angel's affinity for the delicacy if the rich?

Too many times, that's for sure!

But he wouldn't complain and he doesn't mind saving his angel a thousand, a million times, if he got to witness that euphoric, pleased expression his angel always wore after an excellent meal.

Because Crowley may have started the whole apple myth, but he was not prone to the apple's call to sin too.

His angel is always worth everything. Yes, even apples.

Chapter Text

Day 25: Animals/Creatures

Crowley knows that all demons have animal forms, or, well, a version of it. They can transform at will, and while some are painful, others are quite painless, like his.

He had always wondered though, since demons are just fallen angels, if angels also have their own animal forms too. But he was always too scared and embarrassed to ask his angel what his animal form looks like.

Until now.

"Come on, angel, it's only for Halloween. What could happen?"

Aziraphale looked doubtful about hosting a Halloween party for the children and going in as a couple in their animal forms. But not because of what Crowley thinks.

You see, contrary to popular belief of angels being related to birds and all, being majestic, elegant animals of flight, and while some angels have their animal counterparts be related to birds, Aziraphale is definitely not the graceful swan Crowley thinks his is. Hell, his isn't even flight worthy!

But, Crowley gave him that dastardly pout, big snake eyes pleading up at him with earnest hope. He also knew for a fact that Adam and the kids, as well as the few adult friends they've invited will delight in the show of transformation. Especially Anathema and Madam Tracy, the two women who adore all things supernatural (angels are ethereal!).

So Aziraphale caved with an acquiesced sigh, idly winding his fingers through Crowley's soft amber curls. "Fine, you win, dear. We'll go in our transformed animal counterparts. But I warn you not to laugh at me once we do. I'm not like other angels."

Crowley beamed, wide and joy filled, he brought his long lanky arms around his angel in a tight embrace. "Of course, of course! I would never laugh at you, angel! You know that, right?"

Aziraphale only smiled, still tinged with slight apprehension but it was still a smile.

Crowley will come to prove that his control over his promise not to laugh at his angel quite hard, and not because his angel looked ridiculous in his transformation but because of his impeccable cuteness.

No other words can explain the sheer pure warmth and smile that bloomed within Crowley at the sight of the small, puffy, fluffy, white feathered thing.

And he wasn't the only one who found Aziraphale's form quite adorable. Both Madam Tracy and Anathema cooed in unison at the sight, both trying to hold themselves from picking his angel up and rubbing their faces all over the soft downy feathers.

The kids and Newton found Aziraphale's form rather cute too and kept touching his feathers in soft slow strokes, marveling at the soft and smooth baby feathers.

Even Shadwell, who was always a grump, found Aziraphale's form the cutest ever, blushing madly and fingers twitching in a way that suggested he wanted to touch the feathers too, like all the others.

Crowley was still in his snake form so he couldn't really touch his angel but if he was in his human form everyone would have seen him gape in wonderment and adoring tenderness for his angel.

For you see, right in the middle of the living rooom is a very cuddly cute baby penguin. Soft and plush, still white as if fresh from hatching and none of the typical blacl feathers that are found in adult penguins.

Aziraphale's animal form was a cute baby penguin.

Crowley nearly squealed in a heartattack.

It was that adorable.

More so because the initial apprehension that his angel felt about showing everyone his animal form all but evaporated at the praise and positive attention everyone showered him. He marveled and basked in it.

It was a good look and Crowley was loathe to interrupt but he was getting antsy and rather jealous that he wasn't getting to touch his soft baby angel penguin too.

So he transformed back into a human and all but lifted Aziraphale from the ground and nuzzled his face into the soft downy feather covered stomach.

"What-Crowley! Stop that, it tickles!" His angel's squeals and giggles all but a ringing melody to his ears.

Everyone joined in and laughed in good nature. (Well Shadwell masked his behind a cough, tough guy he is, chuckling isn't proper.)

Overall, the party was a good thing.

Chapter Text

Day 26: Love/Heartbreak

He knew not to hope when he saw them together again. He knew that his universe is vastly different than that other Spock's and he also knew that he should have taken other Spock's offer instead.

He should have known that Spock would never want him. What was he thinking? Their first interaction together wasn't promising to begin with and even now, their friendship isn't as remarkable and amazing as what he saw, felt in the other Spock's mind.

That wonderful glow of pure white light.

T'hy'la

But unlike that other place, their fate here is vastly different.

So it shouldn't even surprise him when he saw Spock and Uhura back together again.

Don't get him wrong. He's very happy that Spock has Uhura, and Uhura deserves to be loved just the same, she is an amazing woman and deserves this far more than he does.

So he may be nursing himself a broken heart but he is just as happy for the both of them all the same.

Because even though he's in love with Spock, he also loves Uhura like a sister. He can't get between the two of them. He won't.

They deserve each other.

And Jim…

Well he has the Enterprise, so all's good even with a broken heart.

Time and space, will eventually mend all things shattered.

---

"Jim…"

Bright blue eyes, wide with shock and bewilderment stare through shifting hazel green eyes. Those eyes he'd come to associate with comfort and kindness, the very first time he felt like he was worthy of something, of the loyalty that ever burns within their depths.

"Jim, say something."

He knew it could be possible. It wasn't that far fetched. They've been together ever since they met on that shuttle, both shattered by the awful cards that destiny drew them.

Both broken men hoping for something more in life than just a couple drinks and bara could provide.

But this…

He never expected this.

"Jim, you're starting to scare me."

What does he say? Does he even feel the same? Does he want to?

"I… what?" Finally his tongue moved but out came the most confused tone he ever stuttered in his life.

He was prepared for a long lonely life spent alone and mending his unrequited love for Spock but here comes Bones with a-a...

A confession, it's a confession…

"Oh, Jim. Maybe, I shouldn't have told you, we were fine without you knowing, but I figured after Krall and the Enterprise and Spock… you deserved to know that you are loved. And I do, I love you, but even if you don't feel the same… Jim, this doesn't change anything, if you want to stay as friends, that's okay. I'm just as happy and willing for us to stay the same. I just want you to know that I love you and that you better stop being a ridiculous, self destructive captain, or else there will be more than one person broken hearted here." Bones tried to make a joke and even chuckled dryly at the end of his mino speech but it was apparent that he was apprehensive of Jim's continued silence.

"Bones…" Jim was speechless, here he was so selfishly thinking of himself with his unrequited love and then Bones comes crashing in telling him he was in love with him!

Just so typical of Bones.

"I don't know if I can accept your love for now, I'm still pretty hung up on Spock and I don't want to start dating you and treating you as a rebound guy, Bones. You deserve better than that. So… so maybe, in the future, if you still love me… we can-we can date?" Jim looked up through his eyelashes shyly, blushing profusely, the red a lovely shade spread across his cheeks.

Bones smiled a rare quirk of a smile. "Sure thing, Jim. I'll wait for you, even if it takes your fool minded heart a long time to love me back."

Jim slapped Bones's shoulder for that quip but it was in their typical playful banter.

They both watched the stars together, perfectly content in their shared silence.

Chapter Text

Day 27: Candy/Sweets

It was not a secret that Jim has a sweet tooth.

It was also not a secret that chocolate (a particularly sweet delicacy) is the only thing that can render a Vulcan inebriated.

Bones knows both things together is not a good combination.

Particularly since the Halloween Party is soon upon them and he knew Jim has a particular fancy for tricks and mischief during these days of 'trick or treat'.

And isn't that ironic? That even the slogan for the holidays fit the bill?

Bones knew it in his, well, bones, that Jim, the troublemaker that he is, is planning something tricky and also 'treat worthy' if the amount of sugar and chocolate is anything to go buy.

This however means that the night can end in 2 ways.

1. Everything goes well, Spock gets well and truly seduced and they have a fun if not kinky night together, courtesy of their resident mischievous captain.

2. It does not go well, and let's just say that everyone might end up in the dog house if Spock doesn't like what he sees. Or well… tastes.

"Bones, relax. This will work."

"You say that everytime something goes ballistic! I ain't trusting your words, Jim!"

"Okay, maybe it's a 50-50 percent chance-."

"50 my ass! Last time you got the hobgoblin drunk, I had to patch up your ass and nurse him from his first time ever getting a Vulcan version of a hangover! That was only pleasant for you for a few minutes! I didn't even get to enjoy it!"

"Well, it was more than just a few minutes!"

"Oh sure focus on the minutes! If you haven't forgotten, your ass still got pummeled, it got torn! Repeatedly! I had to use the dermal regenerator on your ass! On your ass! Waste of high end technology!"

"Hey! Are you saying my ass isn't worth healing?!"

"Damn right you aren't! You should be more careful, dammit!"

"What is happening?"

Both men turned to look at Spock, who eyed the massive quantities of sugary treats laid out on their dining table.

"Spock! You're back early! We weren't expecting you till 1800." Jim chuckled nervously, idly licking his lips from the sudden dryness he feels.

Bones gave Jim a warning look and Spock a weary cautious one.

"I was able to finish my reports in time to celebrate this human holiday that you so eagerly wish to share. I decided that finishing my duties with time to spare would be more gratifying to you both, so that we may have ample time to celebrate." Spock gave his two husbands a minute smile, something you have to look for if you know where to look, but then he frowned at seeing chocolates scattered along with other confectionaries.

"Are those chocolates?"

Jim's smile tethered between hopeful optimism to wary nervousness.

Bones remained silent, preferring to have Jim explain everything and have himself out of 'harm's way'.

Jim sighed when his pleading look for help to Bones was met with a scolding look in return. Utterly chastised, he decided for truth instead, borrowing a page in the old Vulcan beliefs of being honorable through honesty.

"I wanted us to celebrate Halloween by eating candies and chocolates together, in bed, while we… you know. Have sex. It's a kink Bones and I both share and we, well I thought you'd want to participate on it rather than just have the both of hs do it together. I mean, we're all married to each other so… s-so, I thought, why not?"

Jim gave Spock a look, that look. The pleading hopeful look that both he and Bones find hard to reject. It was always the eyes that make it hard to say no to. They were just so blue.

"I… do not know what to say." Spock admitted. He really didn't know what to say or react. He just stood there, surprised.

Bones eyed Spock with bemusement, he can already tell that route 2 was never going to happen and they might just end up with a good long night of pleasure filled surprises.

"So Spock, what'd ya say? Wanna give it a try?" Bones decided to take pity on Jim and add in his help. He stepped forward and gave Jim a comforting squeeze on the hand.

Jim's small tender smile, as always, sparked a warmth and joy within both of his husbands.

"Of course, I would be gratified to partake in your special activities, if you will have me. Know that I do not condone this action, it is to my belief that you both, particularly you, Jim, find pleasure and reassurance of our affections through this act, and for that, I can never reject you of your suggestions." Spock stepped closer and softly, tenderly brushed the back of his hands against Jim's cheek.

Jim's smile burned ever brighter, like the sun, warm and light. "Great! I even got us chocolate flavored lube!"

They all laughed at that and proceeded to enact 'kinky' things in bed, involving chocolate flavored everything with a hint of other flavored candies too.

It was indeed a long night spent in good pleasurable ways.

Chapter Text

Day 28: Haunted/Paranormal

Will knows the myth surrounding this town and even though he doesn't believe in the supernatural, it was quite easy to see why the people do.

The very tone of the place bespoke of a shrouded evil that lurks in the shadows. It was misty, even during the middle of the day, and the shadows formed from the tall trees almost seemed like there were demons prowling about in the forest.

The people have warned many to never traverse through the dark forest for fear of attracting the demons they claim to ro the place.

It also doesn't help that at night, there would be sounds, noises like an animal growling or a howl from a wolf, but the sound wasn't quite the same. There would be footsteps, vastly different from that of any animal or beast known to man and scratches left after night, shining under the dim sunlight, long and jagged.

So Will may not believe that there are demons within their midst, but he knows that something sinister lurks in the dark of the woods.

Once, he saw what he thought were glowing lanterns, they moved differently from any handheld lamp that the townspeople owned though. It wasn't until those glowing orbs turned and he saw the pupils, sharp, snake like pupils narrowed in on his own wide surprised blue eyes.

Then they disappeared.

And every night since, he would see them every time he took his walk back home from work. The haunting orbs following him with such intensity, he tried to shrug it off, to ignore them.

But he couldn't…

In the end his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to go explore.

That brings us to this night, with him holding up a bronze lantern to light his way through the dark forest. So far, he had not seen those bewitching eyes anywhere. But it is only six pm, quite early still for night fall.

And usually the eyes come out to stalk him at a later time of night.

So he waited…

And when the bright light of the full moon shone upon him, he knew that it was night enough for the eyes to start roaming forth.

He was right.

It was almost immediate how the presence suddenly appeared, the glowing eyes just opening seemingly out of nowhere.

He met them head on, determined but also quite nervous with fear, his gut in twists of apprehension. He took a shaky doubtful step forward. The eyes remained observant, not blinking but also seemingly not moving anywhere, just staring at him intently.

He took another, and another, and another, until he was almost a few steps closer towards the being.

The creature purred, almost lovingly.

He stopped, eyes wide with surprise at the sound. He almost dropped his lantern when he felt something caress his cheek but only took a minute step back in shock.

"Wh-what are you?" He managed to ask.

The snake like eyes seem to brighten in amusement.

"I am an ancient creature of shadows. This is my land. What brings you forth, child?" The voice was deep and ragged, almost like a lilting growl, quite ironic as that description, but it the most accurate Will could describe.

"I wanted to know… if you were real. You… kept looking at me. Why?" He was curious about that yes, but also he sort of regret coming here now. It was clearly too dark at night now and his lantern was slowly dying out. He would need to go back soon.

"Oh, I very real, child." Then suddenly the eyes blinked forward pass the distance between them and appeared closer, a hair's breadth away from him, shadowed dark hands lifted his chin and he met those mystical eyes with almost close to wonder but tinged with a tendril of fear.

"You manage to capture my interest. And now that you have willingly come into my lands, I find myself unwilling to let you go back to that droll place. I shall have you, my sweet. And you shall be bride."

Then just as suddenly as the words left those darkened poison lips, shadows engulfed both of their forms, absconding him from view of the moonlight.

The only evidence of his presence was the dying light of the forgotten lantern that flickered into darkness.

Chapter Text

Day 29: Party

This was more his scene.

The pulsating beat of the bass, the grinding bodies, overflowing alcoholic drinks and the hypnotic flashing lights.

This was where he flourished. Where he could truly let himself go.

"Eggsy!" Roxy came forward and offered Eggsy the drink he ordered. A clean proper martini. Ever since Harry mixed him this drink, he couldn't not order or mix one himself. It was that good.

"Thanks, Rox!" He took a sip and gave her a smile as she winked at him while she sashayed her way over to the woman who she was flirting with earlier.

He smirked and aimlessly danced by himself, occasionally a few girls and even some guys would come over and dance with him.

Grinding, gyrating…

And suddenly he was swept into strong arms. Blue green eyes met silver grey in a profound stare. Sparks flew as if electrified by their intensity, skin on skin, warmth radiating within.

Eggsy smirked once he felt the familiar tug of a dance. An entirely different one from what he was used to but hey, it was a party and all's fair in the dance floor.

He drank the remains of his martini and set it on top of a waiter's tray that was passing by, settling his freed hand upon a broad shoulder while the other raised to clasp aged but strong fingers into a ballroom grip.

"I thought you said this ain't what you used to. Said sumthin bout it bein too loud?" Eggsy grinned cheekily, slowly twirling along to Harry's lead.

"Hmn, indeed, it is quite loud, however I was able to bribe the DJ to play a more… fitting song for our little dance." Harry twirled him around and that's when the song started to play a vastly different track from all the fast paced beat heavy techno pop songs of before.

It started off with a sultry piece from a violin, followed by a couple beats from a bass line on succession with the violin's easy ascension into a staccato rhythm, fast and a beautiful blend of modern techno pop with classical violin. The song was indeed fitting for their intricate ballroom dance routine but with just enough of a hit for modern twists and turns.

Including a particular flashy half split kick he did midway to the climax of the song.

And while their dance was entirely different than all the others, they gained a lot of appreciative glances and compliments along the way, the crowd seemingly parting in mutual understanding and giving them more room to move.

And move they did, gracefully and no more aggressive than before, showing whatever techniques and skills they each have to offer to this hybrid of a dance they decided to device.

Just as the few last long drawn out notes from the violin sounded, Eggsy could feel the sweat dripping down from his brow, could feel his heart's beat faster in rhythmic euphoria, marvel at the gentle but strong arms holding him tightly, trusting those same arms to not let him fall as he was dipped, the last beats of the song disappearing in an echo.

They barely registered the sound of cheers and claps at their performance, only having eyes for each other.

In the faint distance, Eggsy could even hear Roxy shout his name in glee, but he only had eyes and ears for this gentleman in front of him. The one man who single handedly conquered his heart.

"Harry Hart, you old fox, never did know you had it in you to dance like that. Mn, hiding secrets from your husband?" Eggsy wrapped both of his hand around that strong neck and gave his husband an alluring smile, eyes half mast, blue green eyes almost intoxicating under the dim flashing lights.

Harry smiled indulgently and planted a passionate kiss on plush pink lips, nipping teasingly against the bottom lip and swallowing the moan into a few more kisses, tongue darting out to caress against eager ones, a dance just as passionate as the one they did with their bodies.

"Mn, Harry if you don't stop, we might 'ave to continue this in the men's toilet." Eggsy managed to utter in between pecs and a few moans.

Harry feeling the bulge in between their flushed bodies, could already tell that they're too far gone to go back home for a round on a proper bed. "Indeed it seems we will have to make do."

And off to the men's toilet they go.

Leaving the party to go have their own private party.

Chapter Text

Day 30: Haunted House/Cemetery

He knew the place by heart. He'd use to go everyday, now he goes weekly. His therapist told him that he should lessen his time spent on mourning and grieving, let his heart rest and recuperate from all the self inflicted pain from relieving everything over and over again.

Visiting his grave won't do him any good.

But he couldn't help it. He was just as attached to the place as he is to the flat.

Because it was the only places with him left to remind him of.

He trudged slowly forward, one small step at a time. In his hand, he held a few different breeds of flowers, arranged prettily.

Although, as usual, the florist kept giving him weird looks for his choice of matching these flowers together.

Red Carnation. Geranium. Cyclamen.

And a single Red Chrysanthemum.

It was an odd choice, but there was a deeper meaning to it. And a reason why they're all red in color

Like the blood that flows as your lifeless eyes met mine.

He stood before the plain black tombstone with his name etched in white. He laid the bouquet of oddly matched flowers in front of it.

He was so tempted to touch the tombstone but resorted to controlling himself from doing so. He took a few breaths to calm himself, suddenly feeling suffocated and yet unwilling to leave the only place where his body remains.

He wanted so much.

But he was too late.

Tears pricked behind pale blue eyes and he blinked them stubbornly away. Every time he came here, he would always feel like bawling his eyes out, to hit something, to feel anything but the aching painful numbness he feels inside.

But he would always restrain himself, with all the control brought from years of military training. He would barely win every time, but there were no tears and no damaged property reported, so all is good.

Well, as good as it possibly could.

"I wish, I could tell you how much you mean to me…"

How much I love you

The last thought is never spoken out loud.

It remains a constant hum at the back of his mind, but no less painful.

Then just as always, he would abruptly leave, no more words said, just about face and marched his way onto reality with a heavy ever grieving heart.

It would take many more days, weeks, months, maybe even years, before he can truly call himself well and good.

Many, many, mournful days...

Chapter Text

Day 31: Halloween

"Sherlock stop feeding Rosie candies, she's going to have too much energy to sleep tonight!" John scolded in his captain's tone and Sherlock rolled his eyes but stopped with the feeding of unnecessary confection.

Taking his daughter from Sherlock's terrible care, John set his daughter on the high chair and set a plate of several bite sized fruits on the small plastic table attached to the chair, and Rosie went at it, grabbing the pieces happily to devour them.

John smiled fondly at her and went off to make tea. Sherlock groaned at having nothing to do now. He slumped on the couch, petulant much like a child. "John, I'm boooored!"

"Well, it's Halloween, so deal with it." John muttered from the kitchen.

"Exactly! Where are all the psycho killers? It's Halloween! They're supposed to make mayhem, entertain me, something!" Sherlock wildly waved his hands in frustration and seeing this Rosie copied her godfather to a T and started waving her arms just as wildly too.

"Mn, maybe they're also enjoying Halloween, like what we are supposed to be doing."

Indeed, for right across the pond, somewhere in France a pair of unusual men were dining on expensive red wine and delicious medium rare steak.

Just don't ask where they got the steak from.

"How's the steak, Will?" Hannibal asked as he cut his into small bite sized pieces.

"Mn, delicious as always." Will complimented, eyes trailing across the street to observe a pair of men walking with one girl in a princess costume, trick or treating. "Hannibal…"

"Yes, Will?"

"Have you ever thought of adopting a child?" His eyes watched as the girl hugged one of her parents on the leg and started talking animatedly about the candies she got. His eyes tinged with a longing that was only ever quelled by the knowledge that Abigail was alive, or when he was to become a father.

Both times were not meant to last though, as Abigail died and his baby… well in the end, everything was Hannibal's doing.

Hannibal glanced at his husband and then his eyes flickered to the couple with the girl outside and understanding dawned on him. His eyes softened into guilt and sorrow, for being the source and cause of that deep aching longing within his husband.

"Will… we could always adopt, plenty of children need proper care and upbringing. And we have the means and financial capability to support a growing child."

Will stared at Hannibal, eyes wide with pleasant surprise and a small smile bloomed across pink lips. "Yes, we could."

Across the street, the pair of men and the princess moved along to the next row of houses to trick or treat.

"Thanks again, Harry for allowing Daisy to go trick or treating with us even though this was supposed to be our honeymoon together."

"No problem, Eggsy. I am always happy to be with you and Daisy, besides, she has never been to france and this particular area houses one of the best people, so I figured she would be able to enjoy a peaceful night but also gain the lion's share in candies." Harry explained, a small amused glint in his silver gray eyes.

Eggsy's grin turned absolutely cheeky. "Oh you sly fox! You just wanted Daisy to share her candies with you too once she gets more than enough for herself!" He playfully punched his husband on the arm, chuckling as, just as what Harry said, Daisy brought back another big batch of expensive candies.

Not too far from them, sat 2 men enjoying their big catch of candies too. Or well one of them while the other observed with an obvious smitten look.

"Ohhh, Crowley, these are absolutely delicious! Thank you so much for buying them for me!" Aziraphale positively moaned at the wondrous taste of chocolate and cream.

Crowley smiled indulgently. "Your welcome, angel. Always happy to spoil my lovely penguin." He grinned at the small delightful blush that spread across chubby cheeks.

"Oh Crowley…" Aziraphale glanced briefly upwards before planting a soft chaste kiss on Crowley's cheeks, his blush deepened and he stuffed his mouth to stop himself from squealing incomprehensibly.

Crowley almost fainted at the heat he felt from that one single kiss, his cheeks also flushed a brilliant red but he smiled fondly at his adorable husband and kissed those chubby cheeks himself. "I love you, angel."

The dazzling smile he received was worth a hundred stars. "I love you too, Crowley."

Speaking of stars, a million years into the future, in the far reaches of the alpha quadrant, a spaceship idly floats in space.

"Come on, Spock! It's just a tiny party! For me?" Jim spent the rest of his lunch break convincing one half of his husband to go with him to the Halloween Party that the rest of the crew planned in hopes of celebrating the holiday.

Some are already in costumes.

And even though Jim planned and even had costumes made for the three of them to wear. None of his husbands seem to want to go and celebrate with him, not to mention wear said costumes.

And it was a matching set too!

They would have looked adorable!

"No, Jim. I do not want to partake in this night's festivities perhaps you and the doctor would enjoy the night more." Spock declined and offered a solution (no matter how useless it was) as usual, all whole continuing on sipping his soup. Plomeek, as usual.

Jim sagged on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a petulant manner. "Bones also don't want to go, he said something about having plans. What plans? We're all free to go, I should know, I'm the captain! I planned for us to be free! Why would he have other plans?! And you! Aren't you just the least bit curious?" Jim poked Spock on the arm accusingly. Bright blue eyes narrowed at the subtle tensing of broad shoulders.

"Wait, you know something. Tell me, now." Jim demanded in his no nonsense, captain's voice.

Spock deliberated for a while before making his decision. "Very well, follow me." He picked up his tray and went to deposit it.

Jim hurried to follow.

Spock lead them back to their shared room (well, his captain's quarters but since they got married, it now belongs to the three of them.)

"Wait here, I was informed this was supposed to be a surprise, it can still be one, but you must stay here." Spock gave Jim the look, the one that said 'for the love of surak, do not disobey me' and Jim nodded.

Spock entered their shared quarters and Jim waited.

There were shouting and a mad scramble for something and then silence.

Jim was definitely curious now.

The door opened to reveal both of his husbands, Spock with the same neutral expression as before while Bones was scowling madly. Jim narrows his eyes at both of his husbands, trying to take a peak from their backs but both of them were way too tall and broad for him to properly get a peak at anything.

"Spill."

Bones sighed and turned to march back inside, Spock gave the doctor a glance before settling his eyes back to meet bright blue. "I believe we are allowed to see now."

Jim quirked a brow in true Spock fashion and followed him inside only to gasp in surprise.

Yes, he had costumes made for them, but they were cute while these… well these are positively sultry.

"Where did you get? How? Bones?" Jim stuttered out, meeting Bones's smug hazel eyes with wonder.

"You're not the only ones with connections, Jim. I got these made a month before for us to enjoy, but then you said you had that cutesy cheesy minions costume and sure they're cute but, Spock and I weren't exactly planning on going to the party. These though would suit all our kinks just fine, wouldn't it, darlin'?" Bones smirked when a shiver of pleasure went down Jim's spine.

Jim's eyes became clouded with want, eyes at half mast while he shivered under that intense stare. He glanced back at Spock and shivered the same way to be treated to the same intensity of that stare.

He eyed the clothing, touching the soft smooth silky texture, it was definitely well made. "Very well then, let's skip the party and go get changed."

Later on, Jim will find that spending Halloween in the most kinky way possible is just as acceptable than partying the night away.