The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 23: Memories, From The Corners Of My Mind

Chapter 23: Memories, From The Corners Of My Mind

You would think that Crowley would be the kind of person, that, if confronted with a brilliant sunset on the side of a hill, would park the car and lay back on the bonnet. He was not.

                Rather, he leaned an elbow against it, his whole body at a striking angle with all his balance precariously rodded through the edges of his heels. Ya just don't sit on cars.

                The demon's hawked nose was wrinkled to the wind. How many of these sunsets had he seen by now? Not in his lifetime, just these past few weeks? They all were different. Each one a work of art.

                Like the light playing through Aziraphale's gently flapping wings. The demon grunted. Or his hair.

                For a bit longer the demon lingered there, more thoughts drifting thru his mind. At the back of them all was a gnawing feeling, a thing with small hard teeth. The pest wouldn't go away. He would try to ignore it for as long as he could.

                And then, unwelcomed, another image bubbled up. A little tow-headed child, curling her tiny fingers around the long thin digits of her father's...

                Crowley shook himself, and cursed. He looked around. Night was here.

                Grumbling, the demon straightened up, and ran his fingers thru his hair. He regarded the Bentley as if seeing it for the first time. Then he patted its hood, and got inside, and let it advance his escape back into SoHo to the angel.

                His tour took him, intentionally, all night long.

Autumn was on its way. Pretty soon the world would be changing around them, the colors more vibrant and moving into the subdued hues of winter. Crowley was looking forward to the winter.  Less reds and yellows in the zooming landscape to attract his navigating eyes...

"I'm mean, it's not possible," he told himself, whipping into London's city limits. "It was just...one....and so long ago...and blond....and so not her style....." He nearly took the curve, and the Bentley righted itself with a hard thud. He changed gears and pressed the gas pedal hard.

"Thank God she didn't have my eyes."

In the early morning hours the Bentley sat parked in front of the bookshop, with the demon parked beside it. He was leaning on its door, looking up into the upstairs windows of the shop.  He hadn't moved for ten minutes.

                "Dear boy, are you going to stand here all day?" Crowley jerked to his side. Aziraphale was standing beside him, straightening his tie. The angel's lips were a thin line. "You don't have to wait out here. You are always welcomed at my door."

"It's not like you to just pop outside like this without turning a knob," the demon remarked curiously.

Aziraphale nodded his head to the side in admission of the fact. "Yes, well. I know you've been taken by one of your strange melancholies, lately. Thought it best to see you in."

"Afraid I might drive off?" The angel leaned forward and put his hand out. Crowley took the invitation and followed him inside.

"Dear fellow, why deprive yourself of company if you need it?"

"Because my own company is easier to yell at, angel."

There were times when Crowley took full advantage of the hidden strength held waiting in the angel's muscles. If you squeezed hard enough you found it: wide all throughout. He preferred the ones in his torso, in his shoulders, chest and abdomen. But thighs were good too.