Disclaimer: Good Omens and all the wonderful beings within do not belong to me. They belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, or vice versa... depends on which version of the cover you're looking at. No profit is being made, alas, I'm just having fun.

Thanks for reading; any and all feedback is welcomed!

A/N: I'm like this with a friend. You know who you are. :D

Sometimes an angel and a demon don't have much to say to each other. After six thousand years most discussions worth having have already been had.

So on nights like this Crowley and Aziraphale eat dinner quietly and pay indiscreetly and leave before ten o'clock.

Their walk back to the Bentley is equally hushed; the only noise the tap of Crowley's nice shoes against wet pavement.

Aziraphale places a soft hand over his as he reaches for the gear-shift.

"I just like knowing you're there," the angel confesses.

"Me too," Crowley replies, and they lapse back into a companionable silence.