Raven looked out across the endless expanse of gray, at the dusty craters that seemed to go on forever.
"We're really on the moon," Raven said flatly.
"I said that I could do this thing," Azazel told her. His voice was distorted by microphone but Raven could still hear the self-congratulation in it. He was grinning behind the helmet of the spacesuit that they had "borrowed" from NASA facility at Cape Canaveral, a crooked sort of grin that involved only one side of his mouth and showed teeth.
"I'm glad we aren't dead," Raven allowed. She was wearing a spacesuit, too, of course, but she didn't quite dare trying to move in it. Back on Earth it had been incredibly heavy, but now… The potential that she might just float away had her worried.
Azazel barked laughter and the grin grew. God, I hope he has the sense to keep his tail still, Raven thought dizzily. That thing had a sharp point, it might tear his suit.
"But I'm almost angry that this actually worked," she continued. "What do we do now?"
Azazel didn't answer. He turned his eyes upward and she followed the line of gaze and saw the Earth, blue and green and golden and crescented in shadow, floating far above them.
There was nothing to say. They watched it as long as they could, everything they loved and hated and fought for hanging there above them, seeming so insignificantly small that Raven might have raised a hand and blotted it out behind her palm.
After a while their oxygen levels started to run low. Raven took Azazel's hand again and they went home.