Authors note: I donno. I was trying to write something veeeeery different than what I got. But it's cute. C&C would be appriciated. Muchly. ... *Wink wink* ^ ^


By the way, Crowley and Zira are NOT mine, they belong to the gods which are Pterry and NG


~If I should die~


Aziraphale sat, settled by the window of Crowley's third story flat. It was raining. Gently, the soft sound of the relentless drops as they pattered against the pane was soothing. It made him think... of another time, that the rain had fallen just this way.

The first time it had ever fallen.

He looked over at the demon. He was beyond unconscious, sprawled out on the couch so that it made the angel wonder how he managed not to topple right off. Raven blueblack tangles framed his perfect face, hid his closed eyes. Aziraphale smiled at the sleeping form, and returned his gaze to the peaceful skyline.

The hot cocoa perched by his bare toes was steaming peacefully, thin white smoke. And he was content. More than content. He was happy. He wondered if this was what people thought heaven was like? He knew this was what it would be for himself.

The bookstore was comfortable enough. Cozy and small. He still didn't know why Crowley had insisted that he spend the night at his flat, but he didn't mind. Actually, he was rather pleased, though he'd never say so. Perhaps he just needed someone like himself, someone who knew what they had just survived, just as Aziraphale did. Though he knew he'd never say so...

He shuddered to think how close he had come to death. Immortals were subject to abrupt, and utter termination, if it was decided necessary. He still shouldn't believe he'd defied the ineffable plan as he had. But... then again... maybe Crowley was right? And he hadn't? ...

Aziraphale shook his head. It was a bit much to think about, even for an angel.
And then he thought about death awhile. How mortals must see it. How he'd come to understand it. A children's poem came then to mind:


"As I lay me down to sleep, I pray that God my soul will keep.

If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul will take.

...

If I should love a demon though, if He'll keep it, I don't know."

Aziraphale started. The last verse had slipped from his lips unbidden. He looked quickly over at the demon, hoping he hadn't heard. But he was indulging still in one of his very favorite pastimes. And the angel smiled. He knew the words were true.

Funny how it didn't disturb him as much as he thought it might. As much as he thought it should. He wondered then, how long it had been. But dared not if Crowley felt the same. He realized that it didn't really matter, he would always have a friend in the demon, and it would be strictly forbidden to have anything more. Friend was pushing it as it was. It wasn't entirely a pleasant thought...

He turned back to the window. Smiled at the pattering rain. For one, beautiful, moment, everything was perfect. It was enough. He could live with that.
"Thank you..." he whispered, to no one in particular, and several someones at once.


Somewhere in the depths of unconciuosness, Crowley snorted softly and turned in his sleep. His dreams were of one, prim and perfect angel, with flawlessly manicured nails. And even in a dream he knew loving him would never be allowed.


He smiled. Demons always broke the rules.


~owari~