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“I want sushi.”Crowley looked over to see Aziraphale pouting at him, a stubborn set to her mouth. “You can’t have sushi,” he reminded her, turning back to the hot chocolate he was preparing for her. It wasn’t entirely true, but Aziraphale didn’t like cooked sushi nearly as much as raw sushi, and she’d gotten sick of it as a replacement for her preferred dishes very quickly.“I want. Sushi.” She said, more aggressively.He didn’t bother to look back this time. “Well tough shit, angel, you aren’t allowed to have that. I’ll get you anything else you want, just name something you’re allowed to have.”“I… I want sushi,” her voice was quiet this time and there was something wobbly to it.As he turned, alarmed, she burst into tears, big heaving sobs.He was an arse. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Aziraphale,” he hurried over to take her in his arms. She instantly curled up against him, crying into his shoulder, soaking his shirt.Someone, he could be a dick sometimes. Here she was, being so good and so kind to their baby, even though she had to give up so many things she loved to support them. All because she loved their child even more!He made an immediate vow to himself that the minute she gave birth, the moment she gave him permission to leave her side briefly, he would miraculously travel the world, get her the best sushi straight from the source, plus the best of everything else that she wanted that she couldn’t have right now. The best brie, the best gravlax in dill sauce, the best eggs benedict, the best swordfish, anything her pretty little self had ever wanted. No matter how tired he would be with a newborn, no matter how badly his miracles would be exhausted, he was going to do it – he was going to get that angel her treats!“I’m sorry, angel,” he repeated, kissing her head. “I know you can’t help wanting one of your favorite things. I mean it, I’ll get you anything else. What sounds good?”She sniffled against him, but the worst of the fit appeared to have passed. “Maybe some pickles? And…” she paused, burying her face harder into his neck.“And?” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I won’t judge, promise.”“Cottage cheese with strawberries in it. And chocolate milk?”He very carefully kept his face neutral as she pulled back to look at him.“I was already getting some hot chocolate ready for you. Does that work for the chocolate milk? You can say no, I won’t be upset.”“Can I have both?” She asked hopefully.“Double chocolate coming right up,” he kissed her temple and hopped to his feet. “Let me know if you think of anything else.”“Thank you, my dear!”Well, that was one crisis averted. Crowley wondered how many more there would be before the baby was born.“Oh, hello darling,” Aziraphale murmured as he got up for the day. Crowley, sprawled lazily across their bed, having only just woken up, lolled her head towards him to respond but choked up when she saw that he was looking down at where he was cradling his bump instead.Her heart fluttered as he continued spilling quiet nonsense to it, rubbing slowly across its surface. The movements weren’t large enough for her to see yet, but Aziraphale had been simply glowing as their baby tumbled and bumbled within him more and more by the day.Crowley couldn’t blame him – the first time he’d pulled her over to place a hand over where he’d felt them, she’d cried. She’d proceeded to turn into a snake and make Aziraphale lie down so she could curl around his stomach, coils covering every surface so she wouldn’t miss a single movement. She had to admit that she was a little jealous of her husband, having such a close and intimate connection to them, their first baby that they’d made with their love.But… She could always carry the next. Getting to love on Aziraphale and dote on him was perfectly wonderful on its own in the meantime.And watching him grow their child? The angel was radiant, and Crowley was content to bask in that light as long as she could. Plus, there was no way their kid wasn’t benefiting from that celestial joy!“Yes, yes, Papa’s going to get us some breakfast, help you grow – would you like that?” He giggled to himself, patting his bump as the baby apparently agreed.That was Crowley’s cue. “What are you two in the mood for, angel?”“Morning, my love. No need to trouble yourself, we’ll be just fine.”“Trouble,” she scoffed as she slithered over to his side of the bed to tug him close. “I want to. Isn’t that my job, help provide for the little bugger?” She kissed his belly and Aziraphale laughed.“Perhaps, if you insist,” he demurred, but his eyes were sparkling as he looked down at where she was rubbing his bump. “An omelette sounds scrummy!”“Can do. Does that work for you too?” She asked their child, still on the verge of tears when they responded to their mother’s voice, faint flutters happening under her palms.“I’d say that’s a yes.”“Oi! I can translate just fine,” she scolded him teasingly with a fake glare.“Oh, then what fillings are they looking for in an omelette?”“Hmmm,” she pretended to think, kissing the bump before she said confidently. “Cheddar cheese.” And with more kisses between each filling, she added. “Onions. Green bell pepper. And,” her lips blitzed their way across his stomach until it was juddering beneath her with laughter, “some well-cooked, very crispy bacon. How’d I do?”Aziraphale reached down to stroke her cheek. “Perfectly as always, my dear.”She kissed his palm. “Then one omelette coming up. Maybe two,” she added as she saw him pout a little. “Only makes sense to have one for each of you.”“Oh, you spoil us, Crowley.”“No, I don’t!” She insisted, finally climbing out of bed so she could kiss him properly. “I give you exactly what you deserve.”“Everything?” His eyes were teary now.“Everything,” she confirmed, then gently pushed at his back before he could say something equally sappy back at her. “Go on, sit down, do whatever you planned on whiling away your hours with today. I’ll have tea and omelettes for you in a mo.”“You do know that sewing machines exist, right?” Crowley asked as he came across the tornado that Aziraphale had made of their living room while he’d slept that night. Pristine sheets of fabric as well as scraps littered the room, measuring tapes scattered across the floor, along with enough pin cushions to make him look down and ensure nothing sharp and pointy was lurking by his feet1. There were a few recognizable shapes among the detritus, pinned together into some semblance of what looked like baby clothes.And there was Aziraphale, sitting on the couch, laying a onesie over the miraculously heightened coffee table, tongue sticking between his teeth as he painstakingly handstitched the fabric together.“Of course, I do, dear. One of the most revolutionary inventions by modern humans!”“So the reason you’re stitching by hand is…?”Aziraphale glared at him. “Because I can, and because it feels more… real to me. I knit by hand, it only feels right to sew by hand too. I can add a little extra love that way.”Sounded silly to Crowley, who appreciated modern conveniences even more than his husband, but there was still something so endearing about it. Plus, Aziraphale’s stitches were nice and neat and precise, far different than his attempts at knitting2. The clothing would be adorable and well-made, and he was sure their kid would feel well-loved even before they were consciously aware of what Aziraphale had done for them.They’d have to supplement with some purchased ones – and already could with some gifts from their human friends who all insisted on small gifts despite their insistence that they were more than fine on their own – as even an angel who technically didn’t need sleep didn’t have time to make a full wardrobe for all growing life stages, but it really was a lovely thought.“Oh, and I had a few ideas for my knitting – a blanket was my priority, though I was hoping to add some hats and a few other small items – but I wanted your opinion on colors. Could you look and help me choose?” He glanced down at a large pile of yarn at the other edge of the sofa.Crowley worked to keep the grimace off his face. Hopefully, their child would appreciate the effort as much as he did, regardless of how it turned out. Besides, he was proud of him regardless for being so eager to spoil them in one of the best ways he knew how. “Sure, angel.”He moved to sit beside his husband, pressing their thighs together just to hear Aziraphale sigh happily. He sorted through the yarn, trying to find mixes of dark and light colors, have a little bit of both of them, ending up with a lot of shades of purple and blue, with just a bit of a seafoam green in there.Aziraphale beamed. “Oh, that will do quite nicely. Once I’m finished with these,” he gestured at the already planned outfits, “I can start on that right away.”Crowley’s eye caught on some of the spare scraps of fabric as Aziraphale busied himself with his sewing. An idea struck him – he might not be quite as good at hand-sewing as the angel was, but for something small? He could probably manage.“Mind if I use these?” He grabbed a few colors of fabric and held them up.Aziraphale barely looked up. “Of course, dear, whatever you’d like.”A little miracle for some stuffing and Crowley got started on his own mini project.**And four months later, on the eve of the arrival of their child, there awaited a few drawers full of soft, handmade clothes, some mildly wonky hats and socks, a slightly thready and awkward but still beautiful baby blanket, and two oddly shaped but recognizable duck stuffies, one white and one black.Crowley snorted as she walked into the living room to see Aziraphale slouched on the sofa, reading voraciously as she nibbled on some digestives she’d tucked beside her teacup on her expanded saucer. The saucer that was placed squarely upon the top of her large belly, even larger than Crowley had thought she’d be for her second trimester.Not that she was complaining – Aziraphale looked more and more gorgeous every day as that bump got bigger. And apparently the angel didn’t mind either, considering it gave her a very convenient table as she enjoyed her favorite hobby.The teacup rattled and her wife’s hand flew up to steady it before her tea could spill, looking down fondly at where Crowley could see the impression of their little spawn’s foot retracting from their kick.“Naughty thing,” she crooned before looking over at Crowley. “Well, we know they take after you.”“Naw, you’re the bastard, that’s your baby from their head to their toes.”“To their little toesie-woesies?”Case in point. Bastard. “Oh, don’t you start!”