Crowley leapt, his body working on pure adrenaline. He had been cast from Heaven, tortured in Hell but nothing in his entire existence had scared him quite like the scene before him. The Metatron seconds away from erasing Aziraphale completely and even before he started moving, he knew he wouldn't make it in time.

His body tried to get him there anyway.

In a fraction of a second Crowley knew millions of his memories would be altered or obliterated. The angel had been interwoven in his existence more than any other being. While some of his favourite memories might have been made just minutes before, there wasn't one he would willingly part with.

He did halt before he made it to The Metatron, but not on his own volition. Crowley's body froze mid-step, The Metatron's hand paused, and a great white light filled the bookshop.

"Well this is not right, not right at all." God's voice, her actual voice was calm but stern.

Crowley felt his body return to his control and with the momentum gone, he fell to the floor. If he hadn't been so panicked still, he would have seen the irony of God making him fall twice.

As he looked up from the floor The Metatron still looked frozen, but the book was no longer in his hands. Crowley glanced back at Aziraphale who stood with eyes wide open as he watched the scene.

"These two…whatever they are. They are constantly defying your will, they must be stopped." The Metatron said, and Crowley could see that he hadn't still been frozen, only startled very still.

"My will is ineffable, who are you to claim to understand it?"

Aziraphale seemed to return to himself enough to give Crowley a raised eyebrow at the word.

"I am supposed to speak for you,"

"And when was the last time I told you to say anything?"

The Metatron shifted uncomfortably. It had been a while since God had spoken directly to humans.

"They are blasphemous," The Metatron said, trying to redirect again.

"They are my children, and you were trying to wipe one of them out of existence."

"The good one at that," Crowley threw in, feeling brave as he moved to his feet.

Aziraphale moved to his side giving him a look that told him now was most definitely not the time.

"I think it is time for me to speak for myself again."

And without explanation or reason, as was Her way. The light vanished, taking with it The Metatron.

"Did that just happen?" Crowley asked.

"It would appear so," Aziraphale answered and then blushed. "OH! She saw our bed!"

Crowley burst out laughing. "She sees all, angel."

"What now?" Aziraphale looked around, unsure if the situation was truly over.

"I think we need a drink, several drinks actually."

Crowley sauntered over on still wobbly legs to the desk, stopping only to slide a few books over and retrieve a bottle of Whiskey he'd hidden there in case of emergencies. He'd been so close to losing Aziraphale, he still wasn't sure he wouldn't, so this felt like a wise time. He picked up a glass and with a shaky hand that only stilled when he felt Aziraphale's arms wrap around him from behind.

"I almost lost you…again."

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale's voice was low and scratchy as he replied.

"We are going to need far more whiskey than this."

Aziraphale gave his mid section a squeeze and then stepped back.

"I have some extras in the back room."

Crowley poured himself and Aziraphale a glass as he waited for the angel to return. He took a long swig, it burned on his already raw throat. His eyes dropped to the desk and an envelope caught his eye.

It was stark white, and there was nothing written on it. It shouldn't have stood out among other papers on the desk but it almost seemed to be lit from within. Crowley lifted up the envelope and turned it over , the wax seal was white and the impression was a whale. He'd never seen it before but he knew instinctively who it was from.

"What's that?" Aziraphale asked as he set the two bottles of Whiskey down on the desk.

"Don't know."

"Should we open it?"

"I've never heard of anyone being smitten by a letter, but it's been a day of new things," Crowley said, putting down the envelope suddenly like it was on fire. He didn't understand why Aziraphale was smiling knowingly at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, if She had wanted to smite us, She could have done it while she was here."

Crowley noticed that Aziraphale took a big healthy drink before he finally picked up the correspondence. The sound of the seal breaking off the paper felt loud in the silence of anticipation. Crowley watched as Aziraphale pulled out the paper from inside, studying it and then frowning.

"Well?"

"It's a deed," Aziraphale said finally.

"What kind of deed?" Crowley asked.

"To a cottage?"

"A cottage?"

"In South Downs."

6 Months Later

God worked in mysterious ways, and while Crowley did not agree with a lot of her methods, it appeared sometimes God was good. There was still far too much bad for him to be back on board though. But he appreciated some balance. He felt he'd earned it.

He sat in the garden of the cottage, a little round table between him and Aziraphale. Their hands clasped and resting on the blue tiles adorning the top of the table.

The first few months after the incident they spent in London, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Muriel had gone to Heaven several times on their behest to find out what had happened to The Metatron, but it seemed as though no one had seen him, or Michael. They were just gone.

It took another month to pack up Aziraphale's books. Some went to storage, the cottage wasn't big enough to hold them all, but he was still satisfied with the arrangement. He had assured Crowley that everything he ever wanted was already in the cottage. Which was more sentiment than reality because he had changed the paint colour twice a day for the next three weeks trying to decide, while the furniture was still not set fully to his liking. There would be many days of antiquing in their future.

Crowley looked down at their hands and saw that the blue table was now yellow.

"Not yellow, angel, we talked about this."

"It's pretty," Aziraphale pouted, but then compromised by blending it green.

"It hardly feels real."

"The sunset is beautiful."

"Not that. Us, this. I didn't think this could be here for us. Not on Earth. I didn't think we could be part of any plan, of anything bigger."

"Or perhaps we just chose it for ourselves and that was enough."

"I think I'd like to choose to go to bed," Crowley said, shooting Aziraphale a coy look.

Aziraphale stood and moved to stand in front of him. Crowley waited for him to pull him up with their joined hands but instead Aziraphale sat on his lap.

"And choose to not let you make it there."

Crowley smiled, really smiled as his angel pressed their lips together.

And indeed, they did not make it to the bed.