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In a compromise over Warlock's feelings about being the centre of attention, there were no wedding speeches at the garden reception, and only one short toast, which Aziraphale gave (To the happy couple!) because Warlock trusted him to stick to the point where it mattered. While he could ramble for hours (as any current or former student of his could have informed you) he could also, when he chose and had enough advance notice to find the right words on his own time rather than having to fumble for them on the spot, be quite succinct.
With the toast made, and the photos taken in every conceivable combination of people (starting with the couple alone under the old apple tree, and progessing through immediate family on each side - Adam's parents and sister, Warlock's guardian angel and demon - to more extended family and friends) the wedding party broke up to begin the serious business of raiding the buffet and talking to each other.
Crowley slithered down to sit on the bench under the tree, tipped his head back to gaze up through the drifts of blossom, and let everyone drift away from him. Aziraphale brought him a plate and a glass of passable wine, and then bustled off to peruse the buffet more thoroughly. Crowley savoured the light lemony cake, enjoyed the devilled eggs, and washed the sandwiches down with the wine as he listened to the crescendo of chatter with at least half an ear.
***
"May I?"
Crowley glanced up, saw it was Tom with the younger of the two ringbearers in his arms, and jerked his head at the other end of the bench in tacit permission.
Tom eased himself down, with the kid's face still buried in his shoulder. "The noise and crowd got a bit much for her," he explained, his eyes flicking up to Crowley's face.
Crowley shrugged and slouched against the back of the bench. "Can't really blame her for that," he said, with a wry smile. After a moment, he added, "Been a while. How's life treating you?"
Tom shrugged his free shoulder, and his return smile was almost shy. "I found someone," he said simply, and they both knew the depths in that statement. "She's bi too. We have two daughters, this is Toni, the younger one."
Crowley's head whipped round. " Toni ?"
The kid lifted her head to scowl at him. "What?"
Crowley flipped an apologetic hand. "Just surprised. My name's Anthony, you see."
"Oh, cool. We can be name-twins if y'like."
"Yeah, why not," Crowley said, and leveled a stare over her head at Tom.
Tom flushed. "I didn't realise you were related to Warlock," he said, "or I'd have warned you."
"Eh, it's complicated. Their original family didn't take their being queer very well."
"So you stepped in?" Tom guessed.
Crowley nodded.
"Figures." Tom said, and when Toni squirmed to get down, he let her. He added, eyeing Crowley. "Our older daughter is called Felicity."
Crowley stared at him for a long moment, and then a short bark of laughter escaped him. "So, both of us?"
Tom stared back, half-stunned, because clearly it had never occured to him that grumpy (caring, understanding) Dr Crowley could laugh like that. "It seemed right at the time."
Crowley wrinkled his nose. "You're not a student any more."
"Ah." A dozen conflicting expressions wrestled for control of Tom's face as he processed the change in circumstance and therefore relationship.
Crowley bit back another laugh at the sight.
Toni butted into the sudden silence, "I like your dress."
"So do I." Crowley shifted position, cupping a hand protectively over his bad knee before this small girl could grab it and added. "Yours is pretty too."
Toni nodded, then tipped her head back to look up at him. "Uncle Adam uses boy words and Nercle Warlock uses they words, and I use girl words. What do you use?"
"I use he and him," Crowley informed her. "But, uh, they words are ok too."