Crowley looked up across the table. The Angel was talking animatedly about a new(1) book he had gotten, and his hair framed his face with golden curls. Crowley could stare all day... which was new. Only since the Apaco-oops-never-mind(2) has he been able to stare at Aziriphale without mentally kicking himself. Which he took advantage of. Constantly. He also took advantage of the fact that Aziraphale liked kissing as much as he did.
Crowley had fallen in lo- nope, still couldn't say it. He was a demon, after all. Also, he still wasn't sure Aziriphale really felt that way about him. He still remembered the rain in Eden, and the feel of the Angel's gaze on him, and the sinking realization that nothing would ever happen between them. Crowley, for the second time ever, was glad to be wrong.(3) They had been dating for two years, give or take 6000.
Crowley thought about his first kiss. The two had just finished eating a dinner at the Ritz. The Almostpocalypse was over, the angels and demons had gone back to thier respective places, and all was right with the world. Crowley was walking toward his Bently, and Aziriphale had said "My dear,-"
Crowley snapped. Pulling the suprised angel closer, he pressed his mouth into his. The world burst into color, and Crowley gasped against the angel's mouth. Said Angel responded in kind, looping his arms around the demon's neck. Somewhere a nightingale sang, and somewhere else, She looked down and smiled.
And then Crowley remembered. He remembered Falling, the cold and the pain and the awful ripping feeling and...
This couldn't happen to his Angel.
Crowley pulled back, snapped his fingers, and disappeared.
Aziriphale was left staring at nothing, his lips parted, and a distict feeling of loss.
Crowley had a long night, and then another, and then another, and then... His doorbell rang. He opened the door to find Aziraphale with his wings out. "I won't Fall." He whispered kindly, "Because if I was going to, it would have happened when I fell in love with you. Love is no sin, and I do love you. If... you love me?" The angel looked at him expectantly.
The demon stared at his Angel in shock. Tears ran down his face, and he burst out in a flood of longing and confusion and fear. "I-I can't say it, I can't, but I, I feel like I do, but what if I don't? What if demons can't love, what if you Fall, what if...
Aziriphale lited Crowley's chin and wiped away his tears. "I can wait till you say it, even if I wait forever. You can love, and more to the point, you are loved. I'm here, and I will not wait another 6000 years." And he crushed Crowley's lips to his.
The two years passed with smiles and kisses and waking up with a warm body beside him, and reading books, and watering plants, and long drives in the Bentley, and drunken nights of Karaoke... and the Angel didn't Fall, and the demon didn't hurt and, even if the demon couldn't say it, they loved.
Aziraphel's hand on his arm snapped Crowley out of it. "My dear, will you walk with me?"
Crowley frowned. Aziriphale never left without paying. Something was definitely up. "What's this, Angel? Trying to seduce me?"
Aziraphale blushed.
"No, I-I-I, well, I..."
"Relax Azzi(4), I'm joking."
Dating an anxious angel was tough.
The pair got up. They began to walk toward the door, Crowley making everyone they passed spill their wine. Almost unconsciously, his hand tangled with Aziraphale's.
As the two immortals walked through the streets of London, snow began to fall. Normally, demons hate snow, but with Aziriphale's hand in his, Crowley thought he could get used to it.
Aziraphale stopped in front of the duck pond at St. James park. "I want to do this right," he murmured. "Promise you won't laugh?"
Crowley nodded. What was his angel up to now?
Aziraphale got down on one knee. "Antony J. Crowley, I-I have been in love with you for six thousand years. Whatever your answer may be, it will not change this fact. You might be a demon, but you are also kind, and funny and, brave, a-and... My dear, will you... will you marry me?
Crowley froze. This...This couldn't be happening. It must be a dream. Surely the Angel wouldn't even consider marrying a demon. Surely Aziraphale coud do better. But did..
Did...Did Aziraphale love him?
Crowley looked down at the kneeling Angel, with his hopeful eyes and anxious smile. The face as familar as his own, the face he would go to Heaven and back for.
The demon knelt down, eye to eye with his Angel. The sunglasses came off, and, as the yellow eyes stared deep into the bue ones, Antony J. Crowley said, "Yes."
The ducks became slightley miffed with the strangers, as the kiss took a while, and was vey distracting.
1: New being relative. For Aziraphale, new meant anything labeled A.D.
2: Long story.
3: In his defense, beating Lucifer himself was a longshot, so he can be forgiven for that lack of foresight.
4: Aziriphale hates nicknames, but Crowley usually manages to slip one in there.
To be continued...