Celebrating Christmas as a demon was... weird. To say the very best of it. After all, while the modern celebration had shifted to be more about spending time with family and presenting loved ones with gifts to show how much you cared, the roots were still steeped in Christianity. Though the roots before that were pagan. But still. Even the name itself came from Jesus Christ. Who was firmly on the side of Heaven. Crowley's opposite side. Or... adjacent side. He wasn't really on Hell's side, either, but... ah, whatever.

At the end of the day, what was important to him was that you had a good time. After Aziraphale made his abrupt exit, you'd been missing him deeply, just like Crowley. Your little family of three had been so quickly reduced to two and an absentee, and it broke both of your hearts. Nevermind Crowley's vehement denial of actually having a heart.

On the very first day of December, Crowley snapped his fingers and miracled up a nice big pine tree to decorate with you, taking the distraction as early as he (in good conscience) could. However, the ornaments were killing him. Every other little bauble seemed to be an angel. And if it wasn't an angel, it had an image of an angel. Great. Why did Aziraphale own so many angel ornaments anyway? Why would he want to be reminded of his colleagues every time he looked at his tree? Why did Crowley not just miracle his own ornaments into existence rather than going looking for his angel's preexisting ones?

Even better was the tree topper: you guessed it, another angel. As you unearthed the thing from Aziraphale's box of holiday decor, both you and Crowley couldn't help but look at it with a sense of pain and loss. You looked up at him, and he looked back down at you and put a hand on your shoulder.

"Should we, ah... maybe put up a star, instead?" he suggested.