The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 19: The Interloper

Chapter 19: The Interloper

Crowley woke to the sensation of floating. Of wetness and the thunderous sound of rain. He opened his eyes. He was floating beneath the waterfall.

All at once the awe of the place overwhelmed him. He let it.

The light and the smells and the green of it all. It was a mass of sensations at first, then slowly things separated, filtered in. For a split second he felt that he was a part of everything around him, but it passed, and then there was the quite awareness of the place which pulled all the pain and tension from his lithe body, from very old and dark places.

Then rushed in a choking sorrow. That too came and went, but he let it. It didn't return the tension to his body, it just flashed thru and went, like a wave, and he rode it. Once that past, he was left with a peaceful hollow feeling, as if something had temporarily been extracted. Not the demon in him, just a demon's pain.

Now his eyes caught specifics: the sound and light of the water fall, water dripping off of leaves and flowers, the smells, oh the smells. Even the stones and dirt at the bottom of the shallow pool tantalized the pads of his toes as he gripped and he slowly righted himself.

Water cascaded off his body, making him feel heavy. That too felt wonderful, the gravity in the place. A shadow past over him, and curiously he looked up. Left, then Right.

"Blimey." His wings glistened their dark presence to him. He regarded them for a time, flapping them and savoring the breeze they produced as he dried them off, the cramped muscles unfolding.

Then he placed one foot on the shore and moved into a circle of grass. The Garden surrounded him, inviting in light and smell, from the rich earth disturbed by his feet to the perfume of vibrant flowers and things growing in general. He took a deep breath.

To no one in particular, he said," Well, this is how proper plants grow. Too high of a standard, I suppose."

He tilted his head around, his yellow eyes squinting, "Angel, are you here?"

"I'm everywhere, at the moment," came a discorporated voice. "One jiff."

Something touched his hand. He pulled away and turned. Aziraphale stood there in the buff, his glorious wings spread out, an extremely thrilled look on is shining face. But his eyes were brimming. "Well?"

"I think that's the best outfit you have," the demon said. His angel was so pale and vibrant, as if sunlight could be transformed into soft and yielding flesh. He let his gaze fall to the angel's right hand as it came up and wiped the moisture from his blue eyes. "You even accessorized."

The angel's brow crinkled, then he looked down. "Oh, the ring! Must've come along for the ride. But um, what do you think?" He rose his arms, and flitted his eyes around.

"Oh, spot on, angel, spot on." Crowley spun around looking once more around him. "It's exactly how I remember it. Too bad I was only here for a day." The angel's grin fell for a minute, but it whipped back to beaming the moment Crowley faced him. "Aziraphale, what are our bodies doing right now, out there?"

The angel closed his eyes for a moment. "You're sleeping in my arms. I think you'll stay like that until we leave."

"Since we're here....Stroll?"

The angel nodded, and they stepped forward.

Crowley's hands were set near his hips. "Miss the pockets. I have no idea what to do with my-Oh." The angel's fingers found Crowley's. "That'll do."