Consciousness took its sweet time in return. Aziraphale drew in a deep breath and let the world slowly come back. The surface under him was hard, but there was something comforting about it that made him want to stay there. The smell of old books filled the air. It smelt like home. A hint of Crowley's cologne and the scent of the Serpent himself gave Aziraphale something more to focus on. He cracked his eyes to find the demon filling his field of vision. Aziraphale's head rested on Crowley's upper arm. The rest of the demon wrapped around him in a protective embrace. A single dark wing stretched over them, keeping the rest of the world at bay.

There was no tension in the demon's touch, so Aziraphale assumed he was still asleep. Shifting his head back, he looked up hoping to take in the demon's unguarded visiage. What he found drove a gasp from him.

The demon was watching him, unadulterated love shimmered in his yellow eyes. Aziraphale had never seen anything so intensity in the demon's gaze before. It was more that he could bare. He squirmed uncomfortably.

"Shh," Crowley hushed. "I've got you." His hand ran down Aziraphale's back in a soothing motion, pulled him closer.

The angel took the opportunity to bury his blushing face into Crowley's chest. He curled his fingers in the soft fabric and whimpered his distress. As a being of love, he was used to the feeling of love, but having those feelings turned on him was something new. It was so overwhelming, he didn't know how to deal with them.

"Shh," the demon said again. His hand stroked Aziraphale again. "It's all right. You're all right."

The pair laid on the floor for a long time as Aziraphale quivered and Crowley muttered soothing things while petting him. The feelings of love rolled through their connected souls. There were other emotions, but that one muted the rest. Eventually, the angel calmed down as he grew accustomed to the feelings. Unballing his hands from Crowley's shirt, Aziraphale ran his fingers over the hard planes of Crowley's chest, smoothing out the wrinkles. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Shut it," Crowley reprimanded gently. He slid his hand from Aziraphale's back and caught him under the chin. A soft pressure lifted his face away from the demon's chest.

Aziraphale met the demon's gaze.

"Don't ever be sorry for this," Crowley said. "If you want to be a nervous wreck, I'd prefer that you do it in my arms. I quite like the way you shiver." Amusement twinkled in the demon's eyes.

A hint of irritation cut through Aziraphale. "You're going to tease me now?"

"Course I'm going to tease you," Crowley declared with more of his usual flare. "I'm a demon. That's what I do. Doesn't mean I don't still love you"

And suddenly, Aziraphale's world was right again. "I love you too." He smiled and rose to meet the demon's lips for a soft kiss. Before Crowley could deep the embrace, Aziraphale pulled away. He raised his hand and brushed the dark wing back so he could sit up.

Crowley reluctantly let him go.

Aziraphale sat cross legged on the floor with his wings reaching out behind him. He faced the demon stretched out next to him. Crowley had pushed himself up to rest on his elbow, but hasn't moved much. An uncomfortable tension stretched between the two. Aziraphale needed to say something, but he wasn't sure how to address it. The events of the last few days had changed them both. Things were moving much faster than he was comfortable with, but he didn't want to push the demon away and risk going back to the unhappy state that had been in for the last six thousand years. His mind turned over the many possibilities that the pool of creation had shown him. "Crowley," he said apprehensively.

"Angel," the demon said, cutting him off. He stretched his hand out and took a hold of Aziraphale's. "Whatever you're going to say. Don't." He gave the angel's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I have waited six thousand years for this opportunity and I'm not going to let you waste it by overthinking. Whatever thoughts are racing through that feather-filled brain of yours. Stop. Just relax and let this process. We'll take this at whatever speed you need and I promise I won't go too fast."

A smile eased its way across Aziraphale's face. "Patience is a virtue, my dear," he pointed out, teasing the demon.

Crowley returned the smile. "One I've been working very hard on."

Aziraphale chuckled. "All right. No words now, but I promise there will be words later." He raised their joined hands up and kissed Crowley's knuckles. "Thank you."

"Ngh," Crowley grunted in dismissal. He carefully drew his hand back from the angel so he could push his way up from the floor.

Aziraphale looked around. "Where's my sword?" The large blade was noticeably missing.

"Check your pocket," Crowley said as he got his feet under him and stood.

Aziraphale's hands patted down his pockets. He found a hard object in one and fished it out. "A pen?" he asked, staring at the object. It was an old fashioned fountain pen. The enameled barrel and cap were apple red with gold vines wrapped around it. There was a black leather grip at just the right place. Carefully, Aziraphale unscrewed the cap. Electricity crackled as he pulled the top free. The beautiful silver nub was engraved with a pair of feathers. He looked up, giving the demon a questioning look.

Crowley shrugged. "Form follows function," he said, holding his hand down to help Aziraphale up. "It will be what you need it to be when you need it."

The angel took the offered hand and let the demon lift him to his feet.

"Besides," the demon said, turning to head to the kitchenette. "Can't have you running around London with a magical sword on your hip."

Aziraphale had to admit, carrying an actual sword would be hard in this day and age. Turning his attention back to the pen, he gripped it tightly and brought it down is a swinging motion. The blade of the weapon slipped into reality leaving the angel with the same glowing sword he'd held before. The top in his other hand had also expanded into the matching scabbard. "Interesting."

"I could have made it into a light-saber for you," Crowley held his hands down as if he was holding an imaginary swords. He made some weird noises and he swung his hands around. "Only, I didn't think you would appreciate that as much as a pen." He released his stance and continued on towards the kitchen.

A snicker rolled out of the angel. Crowley hadn't forced the angel into going to the theater to see the well loved movies, but it had been one of the demon's favorites. So much so he had bought the entire book series and insisted the angel read them. Aziraphale had protested their addition to his collection, but had eventually given in. They weren't nearly as horrible as he had expected.

Aziraphale wasn't surprised when he slipped the sword back into its sheath and it shrunk down into the pen. He twisted the top closed and slipped it into his breast pocket. "How do you feel about a spot of lunch?" Aziraphale called to where he could hear Crowley rattling things around in the kitchen.

"You couldn't have asked before I got out the tea?" Crowley yelled back. There was a hint of exasperation in his voice, but it was clear to Aziraphale that the demon's answer would be yes.

Aziraphale shook himself, pulling his wings back into hiding. He glanced over the mess their excursion had made of the room. It wouldn't take but a moment to miracle things back into place. He lifted his hand to do so, but stopped when something caught his eye. A glint of gold laid on the floor near his feet. Bending over, he picked up the ring and looked at it. A pair of wings were etched on what looked like a golden wedding band. A single word in Enochian was engraved on the inside: Angel. Aziraphale's heart jumped. This had to have been the object Crowley picked up but wouldn't show him. It pulsed with a divinity that clearly shown it wasn't made by man. And with the way Crowley had reacted, Aziraphale was pretty sure the demon hadn't created it himself. That left one being in all of creation that could have left them wedding bands. A smile turned Aziraphale's lips. If God approved of their union, who was he to protest. Maybe it was time he picked up the pace a little. "Crowley?" he called as he headed towards the kitchen and his future. He just hoped that there was a second matching band hidden in one of the demon's pockets.

A/N: Thank you all for joining me. I had so much fun writing this. I thought about continuing on to see what kind of trouble these two could get into, but decided this would be a great place to end it. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Please lease me a comment to let me know your thoughts and opinions Thanks.