It should have taken two more weeks for Crowley's powers to come back, but he felt a change in himself after only one.
Crowley woke up one morning and instantly knew something was different, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He felt stronger and healthier, more alive than he had in six millennia. As the morning went by he realised he didn't feel thirst or hunger in the same way anymore, though he still enjoyed eating.
His supernatural body had fully healed from the holy water tablets, and now his background magic was keeping his body alive. He probably didn't even need to breathe, though he didn't dare test it, even by holding his breath.
With a shock of excitement, he realised he could probably perform miracles again – or occult magic, as he ought to call it – but of course, he would never be so brazen. He felt sure that Heaven would know if he did, and both he and Aziraphale would get into terrible trouble.
Would he even remember how to use his powers? It had been 6000 years after all. But then again, he couldn't imagine that it was something he could ever forget.
He told Aziraphale immediately, wanting to be as open and transparent as possible. He couldn't risk Aziraphale thinking he was hiding something from him - especially this. Ever since Aziraphale had made the decision to allow Crowley's powers to return he had seemed anxious. Crowley couldn't blame him. It had been a big decision.
Things between them had changed after the kiss. It had driven a wedge between them. Aziraphale was still friendly and kind, but he now seemed withdrawn, keeping him at arm's length. Crowley missed the closeness they had once shared, and he blamed himself. He hoped that one day they could get back to where they once were. As the days went past, Aziraphale seemed a little more himself. Just a simple laugh, a beaming smile, or a teasing joke from the angel was enough to give Crowley hope.
Crowley had been worried that once he told Aziraphale that he was back to full health the angel would withdraw from him even more, especially when it happened earlier than they had both anticipated. He worried that Aziraphale might change his mind. But instead, Aziraphale seemed genuinely pleased for him, even expressing his delight that Crowley had completely healed from the effects of the holy water.
It was a warm day, and Aziraphale was sat at the table in the courtyard, engrossed in a book.
Crowley had been gardening but he was now inside making them some lemonade.
The sound of something shattering came from the kitchen along with a panicked yelp from Crowley. Aziraphale hurried inside and found Crowley backed up against the kitchen counter, staring in shock at a broken drinking glass on the floor.
"Oops," Aziraphale said in a light-hearted tone of voice. "Not to worry. Accidents happen."
Crowley jumped, having only just realised that Aziraphale was beside him. "Sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean too!" He seemed frozen to the spot, his gaze darting between Aziraphale and the broken glass.
"It's alright, it's only a glass." Aziraphale fetched a dustpan and brush from under the sink. "We have plenty of other glasses so we'll just bin this one. No need to waste a miracle on it."
Crowley made an anxious sound in the back of his throat.
Aziraphale cleared up the shards of glass as quickly as possible, worried that Crowley might snap out of his stupor, try to help, and end up cutting himself.
Aziraphale finished disposing of the glass and then turned towards Crowley, who had just sat down at the kitchen table. He was staring at the spot where the glass shards had been.
"Did I miss a bit?" Aziraphale asked with a playful smile.
Crowley shook his head, gulped, and then put his head in his hands. He started trembling, and Aziraphale realised he was crying.
This entire situation was reminding Aziraphale far too much of how Crowley had been when he first arrived. It put him in mind of when Crowley dropped the book and hid under his bed.
"You're not in any trouble, Crowley. It's okay."
"It was an accident. I didn't mean to," Crowley said, his voice shaking.
Aziraphale sat down at the table and gave him a reassuring smile. "Crowley-"
"No, you don't understand. When the glass started falling I panicked and I- I stopped it with my mind. I didn't mean to. It froze in the air, and then it fell when I stopped using my powers. I'm so sorry," Crowley gasped. "I should never have persuaded you to- Now I've put us in danger!"
Aziraphale forced himself to push aside his initial shock, needing to calm Crowley down. "We're not in any danger. It's okay-"
"The angels will know I did occult magic! The angels will come for me! And you'll get in trouble too!"
"No, they won't. Look at me, Crowley. Look at me."
Crowley looked at him, his eyes wild with panic.
"Heaven can't tell the difference between a miracle and occult magic. They'll assume it was me."
"W- What?"
"You're not in any trouble. We're quite safe."
"They won't know I did it?" Crowley let out a shaky breath. "Oh, angel, I thought I'd ruined everything."
"No, it's alright."
"I won't do it again. I promise. It was just a stupid, automatic reaction, but I know I can control it. I guess I'm just not used to having my powers back."
Aziraphale couldn't imagine what it must feel like to have your powers stripped from you, and then, upon getting them back, to have to force yourself to never use them. He struggled enough with having to ration his own miracles. Perhaps it would be nice for Crowley to be able to use his powers every now and again.
"No harm done. Thank you for telling me." Aziraphale said. "And now we definitely know you're back to full health."
Crowley wiped a few stray tears from his eyes. He gave him a smile. "Yeah. I feel like I'm myself again."
"I'm glad."
"I suppose that explains why they haven't caught Satan yet, if they can't tell the difference between miracles and occult magic."
"Satan doesn't use his powers - not unless he's forced into it. But all the same, Heaven keeps a look out for magic being performed in areas where it shouldn't be."
"It must be scary for him, being constantly on the run. I hope he's okay."
"Me too."
Crowley and Aziraphale were watching television in the sitting room, back in their usual seating. They had not shared the sofa since the kiss, and Crowley suspected that Aziraphale would never sit that close to him ever again.
They were watching Beauty and the Beast.
Crowley felt a kinship between himself and Belle. Both of them were afraid of their captor before learning to love and trust them. Crowley felt that Aziraphale had turned into a Prince just as the beast had.
After the film, they went downstairs into the kitchen and talked about the film while making a pot of tea - Aziraphale seemed especially taken with the beast's library – and then they returned upstairs with a tray of tea and biscuits.
"I've been thinking," said Aziraphale after they'd both sat down. "Would you like to try using your powers a little? It might help you to control them."
Crowley stared at him in shock. It took him a moment to reply. "If you're sure you don't mind - and you're sure the other angels won't find out. I'd like to try."
"They would only notice something was amiss if you used your powers in the house while I was away. They keep tabs on my whereabouts, you see. So long as I'm here, it's tickety-boo."
"Okay," Crowley said. He thought about what might have happened if Aziraphale had been out when he dropped that glass. "I'm lucky you were here when... I must make sure I never do that again."
"I think practicing will help."
Crowley stared at the floor. This was a dangerous situation, and the obvious answer was for him to take those tablets again. He should stop this before anything horrible happened. "Maybe it isn't such a good idea for me to have my powers…"
"I have no reason to leave the house for the next few weeks, so if you accidently use your powers again in that time, it'll be alright. You have plenty of time to learn how to control it. If you would like to."
"Thank you, angel," Crowley said, feeling reassured.
Aziraphale smiled. He gestured to where a plate of chocolate chip biscuits sat on the coffee table between them. "How about you try levitating one of the biscuits?"
Crowley stared at one of the biscuits. His brow furrowed in concentration as he let his imagination soar.
The biscuit hovered into the air before drifting towards Crowley. He plucked it from the air triumphantly.
"Oh, well done, dear boy!" Aziraphale cheered.
Crowley grinned. "Can I try it again?"
"Go on."
A second biscuit flew into the air, and this time it moved towards Aziraphale.
"Hold out your hands, angel."
The biscuit dropped into Aziraphale's cupped hands. "Oh, thank you!"
They both devoured their biscuits.
"Let's set up some ground rules, okay?" said Aziraphale. "You can use your powers a couple of times a day if you like. But you must ask me first. I'm sorry I have to police your mira- magic use, but it's imperative that I'm in the know. Heaven tends to keep this stuff on file. And we'll need to make sure we don't do too many miracles between us as well."
"Thank you so much for this, Aziraphale."
Aziraphale gave an embarrassed smile. "Oh, that's quite alright, dear boy."
"Can I do one more?"
"Go on then. But after that we'd better call it a day."
Crowley nodded. "Thanks."
Crowley held his hands out in front of him, palms up, and then took a deep breath.
A green tendril appeared, hovering in the air above his hands. It started to grow, spiralling upwards as diamond shaped leaves sprang from it, and then a ruby-red bud appeared on the top and bloomed, delicate petals glittering in the light.
It seemed alive, real, and yet there was something otherworldly about it, something magical.
Aziraphale made an awed sound. "Oh, Crowley, it's beautiful. It reminds me of the rose from the film."
Crowley gazed at the rose, a smile on his lips. He'd almost forgotten how much he enjoyed creating things.
Aziraphale crossed the room and picked up a small and narrow glass vase from the windowsill. He emptied the incense sticks from it into the bin, and then placed the empty vase in front of Crowley. "You can pop the rose in here if you like. It would look lovely on the windowsill… But you can keep it wherever you wish, of course."
Crowley placed the rose in the vase, and then put it on the windowsill. "It looks nice here. Good thinking, angel."
Aziraphale looked delighted.
Crowley couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that Aziraphale liked something he had made, and even wanted it on display. A warm feeling spread through his chest, and he realised it was pride.
Author's Note.
~Tale as Old as Time plays gently in the background~