AN: Let me know what you think and enjoy!

IX

Aziraphale walked through the doors to his bookshop. He spun the 'closed' sign to 'open' and made his way to the back to make himself a cup of tea. His smile hadn't faded since leaving the sushi restaurant. He truly did love sushi. To him, it was the perfect combination of everything beautiful. The mingling of flavors, textures, and colors were a treat for every sense. Perfectly constructed pieces of art, they were, and he savored them all.

Still beaming to himself and already contemplating dinner, he set the kettle on the stove to boil. The Apocalypse didn't happen two weeks ago, and ever since, Aziraphale had made doubly sure to enjoy the world. Why, just that morning, he took a stroll through the park simply to watch the birds wake. It was lovely.

He spent the whole morning walking, in fact, so happy to amble that he walked to The Tower and back -a trip that took a couple of hours. It left him famished, which was why the sushi had been such a delightful treat, but it was during his walk around The Tower that Aziraphale thought of Lilith.

It was The Tower's ravens that brought her to mind. Aziraphale always thought the ravens were beautiful creatures, and those that called The Tower home were such wily characters. The stories of their antics were famous throughout Britain, but overall, there were few birds more misunderstood than the raven.

For whatever reason, be it their color, their unsettling call, or the fact that they feasted on carrion, ravens had been the source of nearly every superstition that pertained to death. The number of cultures that considered them bad omens was incredible, but it wasn't true. Ravens, despite rumor, were very intelligent animals. Studies had shown through the years that they were as intelligent as a child. Aziraphale, more than once, had personally seen evidence to support that theory.

But the ravens still reminded him of Lilith. They were both misunderstood creatures, plagued by rumors and untrained opinions.

His kettle began to shriek. Aziraphale lifted it away from the flames and turned off the burner. While he poured the boiling water into a cup complete with a teabag, Aziraphale thought about Lilith. He hadn't spoken to her since they departed after lunch at The Ritz. He had meant to, but somehow never had.

Once he moved beyond the discomfort he felt at her demonic nature, he found that he rather liked the Mother of Demons. Lilith was a kind young woman, albeit a bit rough around the edges. He did expect that, though. Most demons were rather coarse in one way or another.

With a freshly steaming cup of tea clutched within his hands, Aziraphale sat at his desk. He set the china down delicately, reached into the desk for his phone book, and sifted through the listings before finding the number for Lilith's business like he had weeks ago.

The phone rang for some time before the other end of the line was picked up.

"Den of Sin," the voice replied.

"Um, yes, hello. I'm looking for Lilith, please."

"Who's calling?"

"Oh, my name is Aziraphale."

There was a brief pause before the person who'd answered spoke again. "The angel?"

Aziraphale perked. His mouth fell open, attempting to form words that didn't truly come to fruition. It was an odd thing for the stranger to know, but, rationally, he reasoned that they weren't a stranger at all. He chose to take a chance identifying the female voice.

"Miss Lilith?" he asked unsurely.

"Yes," she replied.

"Oh," he let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "I had thought someone managed to identify me." Aziraphale chuckled nervously. "Glad that's not the case."

A small sound met his ear, one that might have been a soft giggle. "What can I do for you, Aziraphale?"

The cold and clinical tone of her voice had vanished, replaced with a much warmer one. He instantly relaxed, even going so far as to let his shoulders fall. Though, he did not slump into his chair. Angels don't slump.

"I was wondering, if you happened to be free that is, would you care to join me for dinner this evening?"

There was another pause, one that lasted longer than the first, before she asked –quite uncertainly, "Are you certain you'd want to have dinner with me?"

"Well, yes," he answered. Aziraphale was surprised she felt the need to ask.

"Then, yes," she finally said. "I think I would enjoy that."

"Oh, wonderful." He beamed. "How does The Ritz sound again?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Splendid." His smile grew wider. "Then I will meet you there at half past seven."

"I'll see you then."

"Goodbye."

"Bye." A soft giggle laced the word, but he didn't mind.

Still bearing his wide smile, Aziraphale hung up. He was rather proud of himself for extending an olive branch to Lilith. It seemed only fair given what they'd been through together. Besides, Crowley seemed to like her and any friend of Crowley's should be a friend of his.

Elsewhere, Lilith hung up the phone after her brief, yet interesting conversation with Aziraphale.

As she returned upstairs, Lilith secured her dressing gown around her body and thought. It was an odd thing, for an angel to call her, but she found it an exciting curiosity. She couldn't say what prompted his reaching out, though she was apparently willing to accept.

Her bedroom came into view the moment she reached the second-floor landing. Lying across her bed in a fanciful way, surely meant to exaggerate a generally 'sexy' pose, was Crowley. He was on his side with his head propped up in his hand, a smirk curling his lips, and a brow arched.

"Miss me?" he teased.

Lilith chortled, an odd mixture of a scoff and laugh. In fact, it more resembled a snort than anything, which caused Crowley to eye her with a hint of surprise.

"You're ridiculous," she told him as she entered the room.

"Ridiculous is such a cruel word," he said in that playful tone he tended to use when joking. With a flourish, he fell onto his back. Crowley threw his arms out in one direction, his legs another, and stretched, groaning a bit when he had. "Who's on the phone, then?"

"Your angel," she said as she climbed into her bed.

Crowley's brows tugged together. "Aziraphale?" She nodded. "What'd he want?"

"To ask me to supper." Lilith began to untie the sash around her waist.

"That's a bit odd, idn't it?"

She shrugged a single shoulder. Lilith let her robe fall from her and positioned herself over Crowley. She straddled his waist while he lazily held her thighs.

"I like your angel," she said. Lilith leaned forward, propping herself above him. "He's so… innocent."

Crowley arched a brow. "Be nice to him," he said in a slightly warning voice. "He's delicate."

Lilith smiled. She even went so far as to tenderly bite into her bottom lip with the pointed end of a fang.

"Worried I may corrupt him, Anthony?"

"Nah," He scoffed. "I've been trying for six thousand years. If I can't do it, I doubt you can."

Still grinning, she lowered herself onto him completely. "Oh ye of little faith."

Crowley chuckled before she kissed him, effectively putting an end to any further conversation.

At just before half-past seven, Lilith was guided to her table by a very polite man. Aziraphale sat waiting for her and rose to his feet when he saw the woman in black approach. He was, as always, dressed in his fair clothing which could look both out of step, yet completely appropriate at the same time.

"Lilith, hello." He greeted.

She watched as, for a short moment at least, Aziraphale struggled with what to do. She saw him extend his hand, then hesitate. He hemmed and hawed to himself as he attempted to find the appropriate greeting for her. Propriety was scratching at the surface, but she could see how difficult it was for him to fully embrace, either due to what she was or… no. It was simply due to what she was.

Finally, and sporting a relieved smile, he simply extended his hand, which she took.

"Hello," he said in a tone that matched. Aziraphale clasped his free hand gently over their grasp and patted it.

"Hello." She fought the laugh that threatened to break free, but a small giggle still graced her words.

"Please,"

Aziraphale motioned to the nearest chair, which she accepted. He sat shortly after, got as comfortable as he could, and then paused. Through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses, Lilith watched as Aziraphale's mind raced. She could almost see each thought as it entered his head and then vanished just as quickly. He didn't know how to talk to her without Crowley as a buffer, and she understood completely.

Eventually, after a few minutes of nothing, his eyes found focus on hers and he smiled. "How are you?"

Lilith's lips curled into a wide smile of her own. He was genuinely adorable, something that she hadn't allowed herself to notice previously.

"I'm well. And you?"

"I'm very well." He smiled. The budding conversation died once more. Lilith thought that, perhaps, she should take over.

"Crowley tells me you own a bookshop?"

His eyes instantly lit up, sparkling with an inner joy. "Yes," he said excitedly. "Oh, I do love books."

"Do you prefer a specific genre?"

"Oh, I adore them all, I really do. Books are fascinating little glimpses into a human's mind, no matter what they are be it fiction, or nonfiction." He was practically glowing. "Do you like books? I noticed your collection."

"I do." She nodded. "Though, I'd hardly call it that. They're nothing more than the books I've read through the years."

"What are some of your favorites?"

His excitement was contagious, to the point that Lilith felt a very-real thrill at discussing her collection with him, though she wasn't as willing to divulge her favorites. When he asked, she genuinely shied away, something she hadn't done since she was human.

"You'll laugh."

He jerked back, clearly shocked by her statement. "I will not." he said reassuringly.

Lilith chewed momentarily on her bottom lip. She knew that, if she told anyone ever, they would laugh. Then again, while she barely knew Aziraphale, she couldn't see him openly teasing someone. It didn't seem to be in his makeup. So, for that reason and that reason alone, she told him.

"Poetry is my favorite," she answered reluctantly.

As before, Aziraphale's face lit up. A wide smile spread across his lips, his eyes twinkled with the purest joy, and when he spoke, his voice showed the same.

"I adore poetry!"

Lilith's shoulders relaxed. They'd been holding a surprising amount of tension over such a simple thing, but she couldn't help it. If someone else found out that the Mother of Demons liked poetry, there would be no end to the mocking that would follow, and Lilith didn't cope with mocking well. She tended to lash out rather viciously.

"Wordsworth, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Keats," Aziraphale gushed. "Oh! Byron, and Scott, and Baudelaire. So many wonderful talents. Do you have a favorite?"

"Blake," she told him, still smiling over his reaction. "I've always been partial to William Blake."

"Yes! He had such elegant prose."

She agreed.

What followed was a delightful conversation and a pleasant meal, two things she hadn't truly expected when she accepted Aziraphale's invitation.

When dinner eventually ended more than an hour later, Aziraphale, remaining the proper gentleman, offered to walk Lilith home. She lived little more than a mile from the restaurant, so she accepted.

As they walked along the streets, they continued to talk about the things they enjoyed. Lilith felt a surprising level of freedom when she spoke to Aziraphale about her small pleasures in life. Never before had she been able to tell someone that she loved art, music, and poetry. They were things too delicate for a demon to enjoy, too pure and sweet, but she wasn't born a demon. It may have been a long time ago, but she'd once been a human being and some of that must still remain somewhere deep inside.

"May I ask you something?" she said as they rounded a corner onto her street.

"Of course," Aziraphale nodded.

"How did you and Crowley become such good friends?"

"Oh, well…" He took a breath and sighed, likely sifting through thousands of years of memories. "We met in Eden and then, through the years, our paths always seemed to cross."

"So, it was proximity based?"

"Well, no." He shifted a bit uncomfortably. "I suppose it's because I've always seen the good in him. Crowley may be a demon, but that doesn't make him a terrible person."

A soft, slow smile took her lips as she looked at the angel beside her. He was so unbelievably kind.

"You're incredibly optimistic."

"Thank you." He smiled. His eyes darted upward briefly. "Ah!" he chimed as he met her stare again. "Here we are."

Lilith gave the angel her full attention. "Thank you for dinner. I had fun."

"As did I."

She extended her hand, and Aziraphale took it. Instead of shaking it as she expected, he bent forward and raised her hand to roughly an inch from his face. He hadn't kissed her knuckles, but made the old-fashioned gesture.

Aziraphale released her and stood upright again.

"Good evening, Lilith."

"Good evening."

He offered a short head bow and then turned to leave. Lilith watched him depart only briefly, still unable to believe the last few hours, before she went inside the building.

Unbeknownst to either Aziraphale or Lilith, their walk back to her building hadn't been as unnoticed as they'd thought.

Across the street and lingering within the shadows cast by the nearby businesses stood Hastur. It was surrounded by a dozen demons, all vibrating with the need to act. Their energy filled it, consumed it, and helped feed it's own rage. Hell's desire for a war hadn't faded since Armageddon was halted, and they hadn't been given a release –until now.

"Right, boys." Hastur's voice was laced with a growl. "Let's have some fun."

With whooping hollers, the demons that flanked Hastur sped forward, across the street, and spilled into the building like a plague of locusts. Hastur's thin, nonexistent lips twisted into a cruel grin. It might not have been able to get its hands on the angel or Crowley, but it would get their little friend.

Inside, Lilith removed her sunglasses and tugged off the black lace gloves she'd worn to dinner with Aziraphale. As she set them down on her desk, her gaze drifted to her snake and she smiled. Lilith approached the animal and when she neared, it perked.

"Hello, darling," she cooed sweetly.

Malum, her snake, slithered forward with his forked tongue flicking at the air. She let him glide his way languidly up her arm until she could lift him entirely. She promptly did and looked directly into his fathomless eyes.

Lilith adored her snake. It was the only pet she had ever owned, and it was always as a way to honor the serpent who she felt helped save her life all of those eons ago.

As she lingered in the moment, smiling and fawning over the snake like a human might a puppy, she heard a loud commotion in the distance. Lilith's head snapped toward the direction. She heard glass breaking, furniture being thrown around, and a gang of shouting voices.

Moving quickly, she placed Malum within the dense foliage of his open habitat to hide him and turned her attention toward the door. No sooner than she had, it burst open and a stream of demons flowed into the room.

Everything went eerily still. The small army that had gathered stared at her, breathing heavily and seething. Lilith stood across the room with her eyes trained on them. For a moment, nothing happened until, just as suddenly, they charged.

Lilith instantly sprang into the fight.

Elsewhere, Crowley walked through his flat. Not a single bulb was illuminated, which only made the dark home even more so. Instead, candles littered every space.

Thick black pillars, thinner tapered candles, and everything in between touched nearly every surface. They lined the walls, the planters in his foyer, and any jutting shelf. As he walked through the flat, Crowley would snap his fingers, summoning any additional candles where he thought they should belong. He even had some floating all mystic-like near his concrete walls.

Their flickering flames were the only light. He liked the way they caused the shadows to dance.

When he reached his foyer, Crowley spun fancifully on his heel. He took in his surroundings and nodded approval to himself.

"Brilliant," he said.

Satisfied with what he'd done, Crowley entered his office and fell into his gilded chair. He glanced at his watch. It wasn't long until midnight. Lilith would arrive soon and that was when the fun would begin.

Ever since the End of the World took a holiday, he and Lilith had grown 'friendly'. They had fun together, the sort of fun that he wasn't able to experience very often through the years. Simple fact was, most humans couldn't handle demonic or angelic interaction at the best of times. When restraint was at its lowest, consumed in the heat of the moment, someone like Crowley could seriously harm them. He could have slept with other demons, but who would want to? So many were disgusting beyond words and no one in their right mind would want to be intimate with that.

Lilith, on the other hand, was the perfect companion in that way. Not only was she strong enough to withstand anything, but she was the original succubus, a demon that thrived on such fun activities.

A grin curled his lips as he thought about what he knew would happen when she arrived.

But, if he was honest with himself, Crowley would admit that it wasn't just the sex, either. Lilith was the first person he had formed a connection with, a connection that meant anything, since he'd fallen. It wasn't until then that he realized how lonely being a demon was. Perhaps that was what softened him enough to accept a friendship with Aziraphale when it began to form? He couldn't say, but he enjoyed the fact that Lilith was in his life again.

She'd been so kind to him when she was still living, so nurturing and sweet. And, sometimes, when he stared into the fiery eyes she now owned, he could see glimpses of that sweet, innocent little human looking back at him.