Day by day, the city and everything within it has grown more and more festive until it feels positively bursting with holiday cheer. It feels alive with lights, shiny ornaments, and garland. It just feels so much like the Christmas that Aziraphale is used to that he frequently has to stop himself from referring to it as such. It isn't and he knows it isn't, they call it Modranicht and it has nothing to do with the son of God or religion at all, but so much of it feels familiar.

In particular, the tradition of exchanging gifts.

Aziraphale finds that part to be a little exciting, which could be attributed to a certain amount of homesickness that he has been developing the longer he finds himself trapped here, but mostly he appreciated the idea that he could spend this time with Crowley. He didn't always turn up around this time of year to see him, but when he did, Aziraphale liked to put a little something together for the two of them to celebrate including a small wrapped gift.

He didn't intend to do it any differently this year for their first Modranicht.

After they had both eaten and Crowley had poured them a moderate amount of wine in matching glasses, Aziraphale sets two neatly wrapped gifts onto the coffee table before settling into the couch himself.

"For you."