Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: Yes, I know it's the 20th. And I was already writing this chap yesterday, honest. However, fell asleep right in the middle of it, and by the time I woke up, it was morning and I had just enough time to get my clothes on before I left for school. So, sorry, but it really couldn't be helped.

Chapter 19:

Present Preparations

For a moment Aziraphale just stared at the object he had found in the package. Light played on the smooth surface of the silvery weapon. The cool metal in his hands felt soothing and familiar despite all the millennia he had spent apart from it. Immediately he remembered all the times he had struck, countered, defended with it, every step and move drilled into his memory by endless hours of practice. He remembered the sword clashing with another, the sharp sound of metal against metal. And he also remembered a pair of azure blue eyes, fixed at his over the locked plades, a tiny smile playing on the pale face, black locks of curly hair flying about. And the sword being knocked from his hands, then given back, a peace offering.

Carowiel, it had always been Carowiel -- well, him and Michael. Lucifer had never bothered to practice with anybody but Michael, so Michael and Carowiel were the only ones who had ever won him in a practice after he had learned the basics of swordsmanship.

Finally managing to tear his eyes away from the magnificent weapon, he turned towards Crowley, his smile brighter than perhaps ever. "Where did you find it?" he asked eagerly. "When? How?"

"Angel, you gave your sword to humans, so humans had it," Crowley replied smoothly, although there was a hint of pink on his pale cheeks. "I found it in a little antique shop a few days back. And as for how, well, I was just walking on, minding my own business, when I felt something that was like your aura. As I knew it couldn't be you, I went to investigate, and, well, this beauty just sat there all alone and miserable. So I spoke with the shopkeeper and arranged to fetch it close to Christmas so I wouldn't have to keep it hidden for too long; I figured you'd have immediately noticed it in my flat if I'd kept it there."

"I -- I don't know what to say," Aziraphale said quietly, his eyes returning to adore the weapon that was like an extension of his arm, so familiar it was to him. A ray of light reflected from the surface of the blade, formed perfect and smooth by the best smith ever. "This -- this is more than I could have ever wished for!"

"I believe that 'thank you, Crowley,' would be quite enough," the demon replied with a tiny smirk. "Oh, and no complaining if I have no other Christmas present for you, either. However, it's not the time for that now. There are demons around, and they're most probably coming after us -- or, rather, after you. Wouldn't it be better to face them somewhere with less people around?"

"Like at a park," Aziraphale concluded, nodding in confirmation. "Very well, let's head for the nearest open place. You three!" he then shouted at the lower angels. "You're free to follow us or stay behind, either way. Although there are indeed a lot of demons about, you should be able to survive with all those holy objects you're carrying. That is, if they don't have any more hellfire-spitting beasts with them." With a grim smile, he continued, "It is entirely your own decision, you know. Follow... or stay."

With this said, Aziraphale then beat his wings a couple of times, rising up to the air. At the same time he changed into his true form, and Crowley gasped despite himself. Where for six millennia had been the simple robes of a principality, Aziraphale now carried an armour of red and gold. So that was what his strengthened aura had meant -- his lover was indeed of cherubic stock, and no more a mere principality. This filled Crowley with quiet pride as he, too, let his true form take over. He noticed the angels' eyes widening as they saw his armour, and smirked a bit. In Hell, everybody carrier armours -- well, everybody who wasn't covered with tentacles and slime, anyway. Although his former position as a Duke had been revoked after that fiasco at Eden, his armour had stayed the same as nobody had the time to check whether one of the lower demons was wearing a proper armour. Well, if Aziraphale's case was any indication, it was only his status that had been taken away; apparently the power was still hiding somewhere. Too bad he couldn't gain access to that power on his own, or he'd really show Hastur and Ligur.

In his hurry to fly after his angel Crowley didn't even notice the fact that his armour was now mostly silver.

Gabriel and Michael both kept giving worried glances to Raphael as the three hurried through the Golden City. Gabriel would have preferred to go straight to Earth -- and leave Raphael behind to rest -- but for some reason Michael had insisted that Uriel should come along as well. However, even in their hurry to get to Aziraphale's aid neither Gabriel nor Michael could forget their worry for the gentle healer. Raphael had been very insistent on coming along, even to the point of threatening to go alone if they left him behind, and the two others had decided that it'd be better if they could at least keep an eye on him. However, the red-head still appeared to be exhausted, and every now and then his wings faltered a bit.

The only reason why they didn't simply transport themselves to Uriel's side was the fact that the act of transportion was rather power-consuming. Usually the archangels could do it pretty much without any limits, given the enormous amounts of power they housed, but neither of the healthy archangels would allow any risks at the moment. Raphael could probably manage at least a trip to the Earth and back; anything else was a guess. And if he tried to transport himself while too exhausted, the results wouldn't be pretty. Too bad that an archangel couldn't transport another the way Gabriel had done to Crowley and Aziraphale.

However, Raphael would pull through. He had to.

They had just arrived to St. James' Park -- why everything always happened there, Crowley didn't know, but he did appreaciate the familiar surroundings -- when the sense of demons getting nearer was clear enough to be detected even by the lower angels. The three young angels -- who had chosen to follow -- all shivered in fear, carefully moving to place Aziraphale and Crowley between themselves and the demons. However, this became a rather futile attempt at safety as another hoard started to approach from the opposite direction. Whimpering, they tried to both approach the cherub and demon and avoid them.

Aziraphale sighed, shaking his head. "It appears we'll have to look after those three," he remarked dryly to Crowley. "I truly hope somebody notices their absence Up There. It's difficult enough to fight demons with so little practice lately even without three kids hanging on the hem of my robes."

"Well, hanging on you armour, rather," Crowley remarked. He summoned his claws, flexing them testingly a couple of times. As he spoke, sharp fangs flashed. "Unless you failed to notice, you are currently in your cherub attire. Just add a bit of holy glow and the lower demons will run away just at that."

At first, Aziraphale frowned a bit, then nodded. "It's not like I can hurt you with it... is it?" he said. As Crowley shook his head no, he then took on a concentrated expression. A moment later Crowley sensed a strong aura, definitely that of a cherub, yet still so familiar and Aziraphael-ish. Once again he was filled with pride for his lover. Watching the armoured and armed cherub, though, he suddenly ached to have a sword of his own. That wasn't possible, though. Hell didn't rely on weapons much, and those demons who did were far above his current rank. Ah, well -- he could certainly use his claws and fangs well enough, even though nowhere near as effectively as he could have used a sword. He had, after all, been the best warrior of angelic ranks, only bested by Michael himself -- and possibly Lucifer.

However, he soon found that he had no more time to ponder such things. Demons rushed into sight.

Next chapter:

Battle! Yay! And with neither of our guys getting hurt -- by the demons, that is. :evil smirk: