Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: And here's chapter 8 -- technically two and a half hours late. I apologize for this; I managed to somehow lost all my papers and thus couldn't write a single word at school today (or, as it technically was, yesterday).

Anyway, sorry, but there's not true fighting in this chapter. You'll see more than enough of fighting Crowley in the next chap, so look forward to it!

Chapter 8:

Happy Hellfire

Aziraphale smiled happily as he finished placing candles all around his apartment, which consisted of a few rooms above his bookshop. However, it was enough; it had a little kitchen, perfect when he wanted to cook, a small living room, a tiny study with a desk and a separate reading table, and a bedroom with a big, nice bed for nightly activities like sleep and Crowley. Now one part of decorating it for Christmas was over. His Christmas might not be going to be overly festive -- he did have to think of Crowley, too, the poor boy -- but at least his home would look nice. Candles, a yule tree, the whole thing.

Thinking for a moment, though, the angel decided to go for a walk before he did anything else. If he went to the park to see how the ducks were faring with the rather cold feather he would probably be back home about the same time as Crowley, and they could then go to a restaurant together or something like that.

So, putting on his coat and a scarf, Aziraphale walked out of the bookshop, locking the door behind himself. It was rather cold, but he hardly even noticed that; the streets were full of people who were radiating more than enough warmth for an angel to feel comfortable with. Crowley, of course, was another matter; being a demon, the poor creature hated the cold. Why he didn't simply put on more clothes was beyond Aziraphale, but he assumed it had something to do with style. Well, he certainly could stick to his style and still stay warm. Although a demon probably needed more warmth -- and besides, their styles were rather different. Or, to be exact, from the opposite sides of the range of style. With backs turned.

Anyway, Aziraphale was rather warm as he finally arrived to St. James' park. As soon as he got to the edge of the pond the ducks raised their eyes at him expectantly. Smiling a bit, he started to throw them some bread crumps. It wasn't perhaps as fun alone as it was with Crowley, but close enough.

While feeding the ducks and at the same time making sure the poor creatures were warm -- like he did every single day during the winter months -- Aziraphale sank into his thoughts. His Christmas gift for Crowley was truly good. Love letters young Aziraphale had written for young Carowiel long before He had even thought about creating time -- now there was something the demon would surely like. And not least because of all the reasons they'd give to him to tease Aziraphale, not that the angel minded... much. True, Crowley could be very annoying at times, but the results were usually good enough.

A very unangelic grin spread onto the angel's face. Oh, the results were often very good indeed.

Anyway, those old letters would truly make a great present. He'd have to find a way to thank Gabriel for keeping them safe -- and now bringing them to him. Of course he'd thanked the archangel about a thousand times already, but somehow that didn't seem to be enough. He was lucky to have such a wonderful older brother, and he wanted Gabriel to know exactly how wonderful he was, too.

Now, Aziraphale chuckled to himself. He was beginning to sound like a school kid with a big brother hero complex. Well, he was out of that age by now -- hopefully, that was.

Suddenly, however, he was torn out of his silent musings as he felt an evil aura approaching. It wasn't that of a usual demon, and it definitely had nothing to do with Crowley. It was --

Then the realization hit him. And with it the fear.

Two wondrous creatures flew over the busy people filling the streets. Both in their true forms -- wings out, armours on, Michael's armour being red and gold and Crowley's black and silver -- the two angels, one current and one fallen, hurried towards their destination. Well, more like Crowley hurried and Michael tagged along -- the demon could sense the Hellbeast by now and was determined to get to it before it got to Aziraphale. The archangel, who was only vaguely aware of the presence of the beast, followed him.

"It seems to be heading for the St. James' park," Crowley commented as he flew past another corner fast enough to almost hit the wall, none of the people below seeing the falling feather that'd been knocked off. "I guess Aziraphale's decided to go for a walk -- those beasts always know where their target is, always. They never wander amiss. The question is, can we catch it first?"

Michael nodded levelly. "If everything goes right, we should soon come across my soldiers," he said. "Do not worry -- I'll be sure to inform them that you are absolutely off-limits. Besides, you're the only one who can fight the beast with practically no danger of being hurt, and probably also the only one who can get it killed before it manages to... hurt Aziraphale." The last part was said very quietly.

Crowley swallowed and nodded back, lost in disturbing thoughts. Demons and angels couldn't be destroyed completely; their essence was undying, much like the souls of humans. It was their soul, basically, though it was not of the same stock as those of mortal beings. However, their corporeal being could be destroyed rather easily, and holy -- or unholy, depending on which side you were on -- weapons and objects could also demolish their true form. Corporeal bodies you could always get more, even though the process was significantly slowed down by bureaucracy; that was not what Crowley was worried about. The reason for his worry was the fact that of all things unholy hellfire was probably the most dangerous one to an angel's true form. One proper breath from the beast, and Aziraphale's corporeal and angelic body would both be in ashes. True, the true form would grow back by time, giving the angel's essence shape and form. However, both the destruction and the recreation were extremely painful, and the process of a completely destroyed true form growing back might last for months. Only after that could a corporeal form be again given to the angel (or the demon, of course, if they were seriously hurt by something holy).

So, although reversible by time, it was all far too painful and difficult. And it was definitely something Crowley would use all his might to prevent Aziraphale from ever experiencing.

Therefore, the nearer to the park and his angel they came, the more agitated the demon became. He now could clearly sense Aziraphale's presence as well; the angel and the Hellbeast were now dangerously close. Mighty wings beating the air he tried to fly faster, harder, nearer...

And then, just as he got sight of the park, the archangel following him receiving not another thought from him, he heard a scream. A scream that made the blood in his veins freeze but no human could hear.

And, at that moment, he saw his angel being engulfed in a cloud of hottest, brightest hellfire.

Next chapter:

Crowley attacks the Hellbeast. Azi's really hurt. Angels watch.