bookshopped | IC Contact

[ Oh look who’s home today with a bunch of roses in his hand looking a little uncertain of himself? That’s right, it’s ya demon. ]

Angel? I’m home...

[Aziraphale -- who is, at the moment he hears the door, fussing around with a kettle and teapot and a basket of loose leaf oolong tea that has already steeped far too long -- looks up at the sound of Crowley's voice and immediately a smile is blossoming across his features as he sets about pouring his tea from pot to cup, calling back over his shoulder.]

Welcome home, dearest. In the kitchen!

[ Crowley pokes his head around the corner, a faint smile tugging at his lips, roses hidden behind his back. ]

Hi.

[ With a bit of a flourish, he offers the roses up to the angel. Does he even like roses? Crowley isn't sure, he's just trying something new today. ]

Got these for you.

Would you like a cup of tea? It's jasmine scented--

[He's turning around to face Crowley fully and stops talking when, well, when there are abruptly roses and as per usual, the angel has no concept of a poker face. His eyes widen and he smiles the sort of smile that full on radiates how pleased he is. He's also fighting a blush and losing. The blush defeats him soundly and takes up long-term residence in his cheeks as he reaches out for the bouquet.]

Oh. They're beautiful. [They're beautiful and they smell wonderful, and roses are very traditional and very romantic, and Aziraphale loves both those qualities in things.] Thank you.

You're welcome. [ He nearly preens under that smile, basks in it, his own expression soft despite the sharp angles of his face. ]

Thought I'd try something different, from the pastries. Don't worry, I'll get you pastries tomorrow.

[This demon. Aziraphale really doesn't know what to do with him. Still cradling the flowers carefully, he leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, soft and sweet.]

You do realize you don't have to bring me anything. I'm already helplessly smitten.

Well, yeah. I do what I want to do, these days. And what I want to do is give you things.

[ He's always enjoyed giving Aziraphale things. Never could do it as often as he wanted to, so now he's doing it... well. Nearly every day. ]

No one can stop me.

You incorrigible fiend.

[Aziraphale sighs as if this is such a terrible turn of events. Clearly woe is him, spoiled by the demon he loves. For now he goes to retrieve a vase. Did they have a vase before this moment? Difficult to say. But now they do. A pleasantly simply, sturdy crystal that he sets the roses into and fills with water.

There's every chance that these particular roses will never, ever wilt anyway, since they're the first flowers Crowley has given him, which makes them terribly special.]

[ Crowley assumes they will never wilt, just because - why would they? They've got water and the angel's love. He leans against a counter, crossing his arms casually over his chest. ]

It's your fault I'm like this.

My fault? Impossible. I'm a consummate innocent in all of this. Clearly.

[How dare, Crowley. How dare. He glances at his cup of tea, steaming away, considers it for a moment and then decides against it, opting instead for something warmer and moving to tuck himself in beside his demon.]

You've never been innocent. 's one of the things I like about you.

[ He smiles, soft and sweet, shifting to wrap an arm around the angel. ]

Guess who I ran into on the way home today. Purple eyes, questioning his whole existence.

Well. Difficult to argue in that case.

[So he won't. Instead he glances over at Crowley sighing with a shake of his head.] Good lord. Gabriel. He's... struggling, isn't he?

[It's the kindest term he can manage. Slightly kinder than a total wreck or having a slow motion breakdown.]

...he hasn't threatened you at all, has he? [Because Aziraphale made it very clear how very much that would not fly.]

No, he hasn't.

[ He turns his head to press a kiss to Aziraphale's temple. ]

He's made it very clear that he has an agreement with you, and he's going to hold to it. Going through all the psychological fallout of Falling, without actually having Fallen.

Good. I'd really prefer not to kill him.

[Seems like it would be messy. He turns towards that kiss, humming a pleased little sound despite, you know, vague death threats. He's in a good mood.]

It seems that way. And on top of it, he's coming to terms with millennia of being a sanctimonious prat and thinking it wasn't his choice to be exactly that.

[That's rough, clearly.] I think he tried to apologize to me.

[ Aziraphale's bluntness still surprises Crowley - not in a bad way! It's very endearing! ]

Yeah, I told him he had to.

I mean, he did try to kill you. Probably wasn't a very good apology, though.

[It's simple fact. He's never killed anything (on purpose, and he absolutely fixed up the poor unfortunate dove or two he didn't survive his magic act) and he doesn't want to start, but where Crowley's life is concerned -- and Adam's for that matter -- it's a line he's willing to cross.]

Entirely terrible, yes.

[But more importantly.] You told him he had to? [That's entirely too sweet somehow.] You're sweet, you know.

Well, yeah, he has to! He tried to kill you. Angels aren't supposed to do that sort of thing. He should feel bad about it.

[ His people, well, attempted murder was sort of expected from his lot. But the angels were supposed to be better than that. They could never deserve Aziraphale, but they could at least try. ]

He should be down on his knees, begging your forgiveness.

[Ah. Aziraphale turns then, into Crowley, wrapping his arms around the demon and tucking himself in quite comfortably up against him. He's gotten very fond of the whole physical affection thing in a remarkably short time. It's comfortable. And comforting.]

And Hell tried to destroy you. That's the piece of it that I can't forgive, apology or no. Heaven handed them the holy water without any reservation.

[And that right there is unforgivable.]

They would've tried it, sooner or later.

[ Crowley snorts faintly. ]

I'm a demon, after all.

You're my demon, and I'm very much not okay with anyone trying to destroy you. Sooner, later, ever.

[Well. Now he's feeling huffy about it too, more than a bit agitated. In his defense, the idea of losing Crowley has always been terrifying and is now more than ever.]

[ Crowley reaches out, takes Aziraphale's hand in his, presses a kiss to his palm. ]

I know. Nothing's going to happen to me. Or you. Gabriel is too busy stewing in his own existential crisis at the moment.

[Okay. Fine. That mollifies him at least a little. He may still be sulking at the whole idea really.]

I'm not worried about Gabriel coming for me. Here at least, existential crisis or no, we're on a level playing field in this world. ...he seemed a little too ebullient when he left me earlier though.

[Happy Gabriels are creepy.]

I'm certain that can't be a good sign.

He thinks he's got it figured out, you know.

[ And yet, Crowley doesn't seem concerned. ]

He thinks we survived because the Almighty loves us.

Does he? That's... that's fine, actually. Better he thinks that than actually figures it out.

[And really, maybe She does love them. God works in mysterious and ineffable ways, after all. Maybe even through the final prophecy from the only entirely accurate prophet in history, a book that only landed in their hands at that moment through a strange and unaccountable chain reaction.

Or maybe not. Whatever the reason, they're still here.

Anyway, far more importantly.]

He called you my husband, you know.

[ Crowley's been rather dwelling on the thought since Gabriel spoke it aloud, actually. Ineffability blah blah. Crowley would never presume to know what goes through Her head at any given time. He'd entertain the idea that She loves Aziraphale, though - mostly because Aziraphale is incredibly easy to love, in his experience.

It's the part where the archangel has convinced himself that God loves Crowley, that's got him confused. He's a demon. He Fell. One of Heaven's permanently exiled. The whole point is that God no longer loves him.

But instead of saying that aloud, he just makes one of his little sounds. Like, mmf. ]

Marriage was invented by humans once they started claiming patches of land and saying "this is mine and my children will have it after I die".

[ He peers at Aziraphale. ]

But leave it to an archangel to oversimplify something.

Action;

Action;

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