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Crowley wasn’t sure when Aziraphale had taken up knitting. The angel had had a number of hobbies that had come and gone over the centuries, and while he was pretty good at keeping track of them, it was hard to pinpoint exactly when each one started and faded, especially when they had gone years or even decades without seeing each other sometimes. He was fairly certain this one had developed several centuries ago, but– judging by the reduction in bulky socks and somewhat uneven mufflers the angel had been wearing in recent decades– it had been on hiatus for a while.
Crowley was not exactly sure when it had been resurrected either. He simply became aware of it when he walked into the shop one day and found Aziraphale sitting in his chair with an oversized ball of yarn on his lap and a pair of needles working on what later turned out to be a baby blanket for Book Girl and Witchfinder Boy.
A few weeks later, a pale blue tea cozy appeared in the shop. Then a pair of brown mittens. Every time Crowley noticed Aziraphale knitting, the angel usually told him what he was working on. Until, about three months after the hobby had picked up again, Crowley discovered him with a ball of red yarn, working on something that looked rather long and narrow.
“Whatcha workin’ on, Angel?” Crowley asked.
“Nothing,” Aziraphale said evasively.
“Well, it’s clearly something,” Crowley protested.
“It’s an experiment,” Aziraphale said, pulling the fabric to his chest and crossing his arms over it.
“Alright, whatever,” Crowley said. “No need to get defensive.”
The knitting materials disappeared after that. Several times Crowley would enter the shop or come down from the bedroom in the morning and thought he felt the tingle of a miracle or see the angel flinch suspiciously, but the knitting was nowhere to be seen. A part of him felt guilty. He couldn’t help but wonder if his questions had caused the change, but then again it could have just been a passing fancy. Perhaps the ‘experiment’ had failed and Aziraphale had simply lost interest again. Either way, he decided it was best not to ask. No point hurting his feelings. He’d go back to it when he was ready. It probably wouldn’t be more than a few decades.
A month passed and the weather got cold. Very cold. After the holidays Crowley began to feel his usual urge to hibernate which tended to strike him each year around mid-January. It was a tricky thing these days. As much as he loved the idea of having a good lie-in in serpent form, he hated to leave Aziraphale for more than a few days, let alone a few weeks or months.
“It’s no bother, Dear,” the angel assured him after he mentioned the possibility, while struggling to keep his eyes open on the bookshop sofa. “You need to take care of yourself. I know winter is hard on you.”
“You sure, Angel?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” Aziraphale said sweetly. “There’s just one thing first before you go. Wait here. Won’t be a minute.”
Aziraphale disappeared upstairs and Crowley heard a series of bumps and knocks as he clearly dug through his miraculously enlarged closet, before he heard hurried footsteps coming back down the stairs.
In his arms, Aziraphale was holding a large bundle of soft-looking fabric.
“Tadah!” Aziraphale said, shaking out the bundle, and revealing an incredibly long, hand-knit sleeve of red wool.
“What–?”
“It’s a serpent sweater!” Aziraphale said proudly.
Crowley stared in awe as he processed what he was seeing: a twenty-foot long, red, sleeveless sweater with black trim and an embroidered “C” in the middle.
“This is what you were working on?” he gasped, fighting around the lump rapidly forming in his throat.
“Well, I know how cold you get in the winter, I thought it might help,” Aziraphale said sweetly. “I just didn’t want you to see it before I had the human-sized one ready too, though truthfully it’s taken a bit longer than expected and I probably won’t have it done until Valentine’s Day…”
Crowley got to his feet and pulled Aziraphale into the kind of crushing hug only a snake can give. “Thank you so much, Angel,” he said. “I promise I’ll set my alarm so I can wake up and see the other one.”
Crowley felt Aziraphale smile against the crook of his neck. “Oh wonderful!” he said muffledly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”