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Crowley was walking to his car when he heard them. His life, when he looked back on it, had several significant points that really just boiled down to ‘wrong place, wrong time,’ and a few that were the elusive opposite; the night that he found the kittens was a rare case of ‘right place, right time.’
It was raining. Crowley had just had a meeting with Shax, and his shoulders were scrunched up to his ears, water dripping off his jacket and hair. There weren’t many people out, that late at night, but through windows Crowley could see people eating, laughing, watching TV.
It wasn’t a long walk from the park to his car. It felt like it was, though, tonight. Maybe it was something to do with talking about how Hell was doing. Maybe he missed it down there. He didn’t think so. It wasn’t something he wanted to worry about right now.
His brooding was probably making the rain worse. He didn’t care. Let Heaven come down and try and stop him.
Finally, there was his car. He sped up a little bit, when—
Was that a squeak? Where was it coming from?
It sounded like maybe off to the right? Ooh, that was a nasty- looking alleyway. Well, he was too curious now not to check it out.
To an ordinary human, it would’ve been far too dark to make out what, exactly, was squeaking in the alleyway. For Crowley, it became clear very, very quickly.
Huddled against one wall were three tiny, soaked, pitiful little kittens.
Crowley felt his metaphorical heart skip a beat before composing himself. Well, Aziraphale might like them, he rationalized. With hands more gentle than he would ever admit, he gathered up the little creatures and held them close, ignoring the mud they were smearing on his clothes.
“Oh, you are little, aren’t you,” he breathed. One of them yawned and cuddled closer to him. “Yes, yes, Aziraphale is going to love you.”
One that he thought might be a tortoiseshell (it was hard to tell, with all the mud and the dampness) sneezed. Oh, they’d better not be sick. They’d been out in the rain so long, and they were so young, of course they were going to get sick!
After a moment’s hesitation, he miracled them all into good health. And, for good measure, warmed them up. “All right, there we go, let’s get you back to the bookshop, then.”
They could sit on the floor of the car, that was the best place for them in there. He tried to set them down, which went smoothly for two, but the palest kitten latched its tiny, razor-sharp claws into his skin and would not let go.
“Ah, oh, alright then,” Crowley said with gritted teeth. “Little bastard, get off,” he said in a sing-song, trying to gently pry it off with his other hand. It clung tighter.
He stared. The kitten stared back.
“ Damn it, fine, you’d better just hope I don’t crash, then.” He curled his hand close to his chest and clumsily navigated to the front seat. With a snap of his fingers, the car roared to life, and with it his music. The kitten didn’t relax its claws at all, but Crowley could ignore that.
It’s not like the tiny creature knew any better, not really. It didn’t know much of anything at all.
The little bastard seemed to enjoy watching the road rush past, so Crowley held it up to the window. Be quiet, Aziraphale, he wasn’t going soft, it was just to keep the kitten from clawing him any more.
The two on the floor were asleep by the time he got back to the bookshop, so he was careful not to wake them up when he scooped them up. The little bastard finally relaxed its grip on his skin and snuggled up with its siblings. Crowley let out a sigh of relief. It may be cute, but he didn’t want it as a permanent accessory.
“Angel! Look what I’ve found you!” he called as he burst through the door. Aziraphale startled from where he was reading some old book at his desk, turning to Crowley with wide eyes.
“Yes, what is it, dear?” he said, setting down a mug.
“ Kittens. Little, little baby ones, here you are,” Crowley shoved them at Aziraphale.
“Oh, oh Crowley,” Aziraphale crooned, fluttering his hands. “Wherever did you find them? They’re so dirty…”
“Er, just the ground. An alleyway. They looked awfully cold, and I know how you are about—you know. Helpless little things.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said fondly.
“Shut up,” Crowley shot back.
Aziraphale gave him a knowing look, though what he was trying to say he knew, Crowley had no idea. He wasn’t going soft. He was a demon.
“Well, we’d better get them cleaned up before letting them free around your precious books,” Crowley said quickly.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Aziraphale said, his eyes still bright with amusement. “I’ll just miracle them clean, then…” With a quick gesture, the kittens were dry, clean, and very fluffy. The little bastard meowed, while the other two kept sleeping. It was a bright white, like Aziraphale’s wings, and had clear, blue eyes. Crowley had thought it was a pale brown.
“...Have we got somewhere to put them, Angel? I’m sure they’re quite tired—very exciting day, you know, for a tiny animal.”
“Er. Hm. I’m sure I’ve got an extra blanket somewhere…” He bustled off upstairs and came down after a moment with a soft, knitted blanket. Crowley followed him into the back and watched as he turned the blanket into a little nest for the kittens.
“Well, off you go then…” Crowley muttered. He, again, tried to gently set down the kittens.
And, once again, the little bastard kept clinging on. “ Bastard, you can’t stay here forever!”
“Crowley! Don’t be mean!” Aziraphale said.
“It’s—I’m not! It’s just true! It won’t let go of my hand, clung on the whole time I was driving. I—That’s its name.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s true, it’s—you cannot name that cat Bastard.”
“Can, will, did. And that’s Little Bastard, if you must know. Be respectful.”
Aziraphale looked at him grumpily. “I’ll have you know I do not approve of that. But if you’ve already named him, I suppose there’s nothing to be done.”
“Yep, that’s right. Well, what do I do about him, he’s—he’s pretty stuck on.”
“Well, I guess you’d better just let him sleep on you, then?” Aziraphale smirked.
“Wh—no, no, I’m not doing that, what am I, his mother?” Crowley gave a half-hearted attempt to push Little Bastard off. He just looked up at Crowley with his big, blue eyes and yawned.
“You did pick them up, Crowley, you might as well be their mother now.”
Crowley grumbled, but the thought made something warm deep, deep down in his chest. “Well, he is a bit too small to sleep on his own… I guess I can take a quick nap on the couch, let him sit there…”
“That’s the spirit, dear, now off you go, the little one needs his sleep,” Aziraphale said with a smile.
Crowley rolled his eyes and headed off for the couch. “Now, Little Bastard, you can’t stay on my hand all night, okay, I promise it will be much more comfortable for both of us if you lay down somewhere else.”
Little Bastard blinked at him.
Carefully, mindful of Little Bastard’s fragile little body, Crowley curled up on the couch. After a moment, the kitten clambered off his hand to curl up against his chest. He could feel Little Bastard purring contentedly, and ever so gently, Crowley started petting him.
With a little yawn, Little Bastard stretched, bumping against Crowley’s hand.
“Well, you’re not too bad, are you,” he murmured. “Sweet dreams.”
He slept through until morning.
—
Crowley woke up to sharp little claws on his face. Little Bastard had decided it was a great idea to use him as a climbing frame, and when Crowley attempted to pry him off, he started biting Crowley’s hair.
Which is how Crowley ended up walking into the living room with a little white kitten on his head. Aziraphale at least did him the mercy of not laughing, though he shot Crowley an amused look.
“Can it, Angel, he was going to start eating my hair.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve escaped that terrible fate. His sisters are awake, as well. I’ve bought them some breakfast.”
“Aziraphale, that’s—you—did you just ask your favourite sushi chef to give you a side of plain fish?”
“They like it!” he said defensively. It did seem to be true. The other two kittens, a pure black one with green eyes and a tortoiseshell with bright yellow eyes, were making a bit of a mess from the fish Aziraphale had given them.
“Little Bastard, if you want to have breakfast, you’re going to have to come down.” Crowley started trying to coax the kitten off his head, and after sniffing the air for a bit, he did release Crowley’s hair and let himself be set down next to the other kittens. “There you go…”
The black kitten trotted over to Aziraphale clumsily and started begging for some of his rice, staring up at him with pleading eyes and meowing sadly. Her little tail swished back and forth, maybe mischievous, maybe annoyed; Crowley couldn’t tell, but it added to the effect. “No, no, the fish is for you, I don’t think you can eat this.”
“Ah, let her have some, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Well… I suppose so.” Aziraphale gave her a bit of rice, which she eagerly ate.
“Let’s name that one Rice, then, she likes it.”
“Wh—no, that’s—”
“Aw, baby Rice,” Crowley cooed teasingly, scratching her between the ears. She purred and headbutted his hand. “Look, she likes it!”
“ Fine. If you must. Then—then I’m naming the last one after you! She has the same eyes!”
“No—no, you better not—”
“Oh, Crow, you little sweetheart,” Aziraphale crooned at the tortoiseshell kitten. She hissed at him, and he gave her a bit of fish. “She’s a bit cranky—just like you!”
“You will not name her that,” Crowley hissed.
“Look at that, you even hiss the same!”
Crowley covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe you.”
“What’s done is done, darling,” Aziraphale said smugly. “Also, I think we should check Little… Little Bastard’s hearing, it’s quite common for cats of his colouration to be deaf, you know.”
“Oh. Alright, then. How do you even check a cat’s hearing?”
“Er. I’m not sure, actually… maybe just… make a sound at him?”
Crowley made a sharp noise at the kittens. Rice and Crow jumped, but Little Bastard kept happily eating his fish. “Right, then, we’d better make sure he can tell when we’re coming… wouldn’t want to step on him…” Crowley muttered.
“I’d guess he can tell well enough based on our footsteps, dear, just be careful not to sneak up on him if you’re walking softly.”
“Oh, I guess so… maybe teach him some hand motions, too, since we’ll probably be calling to the other two… people train their dogs to do that, don’t they?”
“Good idea, Crowley, I’m sure there’s a book in here that talks about training cats.”
“Well! That’s sorted, then. We’d better get them some treats. Are you just going to keep feeding them fish?” Crowley eyed the kittens, now done with their meal and wandering around the table.
“Of course! I couldn’t feed them that—that dry stuff. They should get to experience what food’s all about, my dear!”
“Of course you’d say that,” Crowley said fondly.
“You watch them while I head off to the store. They’ll need toys too!”
“Er, alright—” And Aziraphale was already gone.
“Just us now, is it?” Crowley said to the kittens.
Crow and Rice blinked up at him, while Little Bastard prepared to jump off of the table. “Oh, no no, don’t do that!” Crowley yelped. He grabbed all three and bundled them up in his arms. “Let’s do something-er, something safe. ”
—
When Aziraphale got home, it was to the sight of his love on the ground, wings splayed out, letting the kittens play with his feathers and wiggling his fingers to let them pounce on his hand.
He set down his boxes of cat supplies and watched for a while, savoring the happiness they’d managed to carve out for themselves.
Things weren’t perfect. But they were free, and they had each other, and now they had three lovely creatures to care for, so Aziraphale thought maybe this was the best outcome he could imagine.
