The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 33: An Even Draw

Chapter 33: An Even Draw

"We need something of you, and touched by me, is that not correct?"

"No more and no less," Crowley agreed, handing the angel a water bottle. The demon watched him rub his ring as he threw back his head and gulped the water hard.

Then, after passing back the empty container, Aziraphale slipped off the ring and proceeded to roll it over his fingers like a coin. Crowley regarded the display for about a minute before asking," Why does your magic become better when you play with that thing?"

"I pretend it's you."

"Oh, ha-ha."

"I don't have to pretend, you know." Aziraphale pulled off the ring and inspected it in the light. "Because of its source it possesses unique properties, this little ring. Doesn't only press into wax."

Crowley smashed the bottle in his hands. "Are you talking about...a brand?"

"Oh, no." The angel shook his head. "I mean it is a mark, or an impression, rather. A thing in itself that works on you because it's made of a tiny part of you."

"The old me, angel. It won't work at all."

"I can't wait to see your face," Aziraphale threw the ring up and caught it, beaming to him, "when I prove you wrong."

His friend didn't return the smile. Doubtful, but I'll have a go."

The angel's eyes creased. "Can you suggest an alternative?"

"No, but I don't believe innit, right?"

"Do you...believe in me?"

At last, the demon relented. He smirked, and shook his head. "You got me there, angel. Fine, let's say it does. Can the mark be removed?"

"Only by you, but like these," the angel drew up his friend's hand and touched it to his right piercing, and gritted his teeth, "the body will remember, and you'll need to heal yourself. But if ever you so choose, you can do it."

Crowley let the small snake roll in his fingers, felt the angel quiver as the rotation caused friction inside his flesh. "Easy. Come back to me for a second."

"I'm here. Getting used to them."

The demon leaned into his face," I look forward to the same feeling."

Aziraphale shivered, and blinked. "Oh! Um, right. So, the deeper its roots, the greater its permanence. However, it's not like this," he smoothed his free hand lovingly down the side of Crowley's face, his thumb grazing the snake, and the demon leaned hard into the touch, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "It has no potency on its own. It could if we choose to, but only in the making. It's merely a symbol, and if it helps to stop the dreams, dear boy, if it gives you any comfort—"

The demon removed the angel's fingers from his face and insisted through gritted teeth," It marks me as yours."

"You're not my slave, either."

"Only when I want to be," the demon bent down and surrounded Aziraphale's right snake with his lips, and sucked, and pulled, let his tongue work the bar until a keen peeled apart the angel's lips, "I do so very often. And I know," he pulled away and kissed his friend on his waiting mouth, "the feeling is mutual, you little switch."

Aziraphale laid his head on Crowley's chest," I'm sorry about the pain."

Crowley drew him up. "Nothing worth having comes without a little." Then he showed his fingers momentarily to the angel, and his friend's eyes traced their application to his chest as he snarled and burned away a good portion of his chest hair, leaving a canvas on which the angel might work.