The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 57: A Little Test

Chap 57: A Little Test

Lunchtime came and went. Then tea time arrived, and at least the ladies felt assured that Crowley and his angel had the strength to partake. The demon himself brought the tray into the angel's quarters, just to show them all he wasn't an invalid. Not that he didn't take advantage of their bedside manners.

As he opened the door, his heart practically leapt to see Aziraphale propped up in the bed, a pear delicately held to his mouth with a napkin tucked in his collar. At the demon's entrance, the angel's face lit up. "Choowweee!!"

"Your mouth is full, angel," he laughed, kicking the door closed. "You're picking up my bad habits."

But Aziraphale was too elated to even remark. In a flurry he sprang from the bed and grabbed the demon, nearly making him spill the tray. Crowley had to raise it above his head as his friend squeezed the breath out of him, clutching his ribs to cracking. Very methodically, he removed a hand and took the pear from his unresisting palm and plopped it on the tray. The angel rocked him back and forth, making him woozy, nearly unbalancing everything. The demon didn't correct him. He would have, normally. But not today.

And then there was the weeping. Geez angel, add to my collection already.

Aziraphale finally swallowed. "Crowley!!"

"Angel. Glad to see you got your appetite back."

"It was touch and go for a while." The demon carefully put the tray down and pulled him away, inspecting his broad, wet face, looking him up and down. He wiped the tears from that face, threw his head back in a barking laugh, and hugged him around the head.

"Angel!" he chortled, "Bloody, clever angel!" Aziraphale mumbled something into his pajama shirt, and he pulled away. "Whot?"

"I said, um, how were the biscuits?"

"Ate the whole sleeve and then another. How were the cigarettes?"

"Dreadful. I nearly coughed up a lung." He frowned a bit. "The witch laughed at me."

Crowley made a mocking pouty face. The angel frowned further, the edges of his mouth turned up and he chuckled. "I'm so glad I shed your moods. You're such a chore."

"I'm glad I shed your appetite. I'm so stuffed I could ralph if you swing me around once more."

But then the angel became very still, and he looked strangely up into the demon's face, as it mirrored his own.

Then Aziraphale drew up and planted a firm kiss on his lips, and Crowley hung there.

Just happy to welcome him back.

"Let me see it, dear."

Aziraphale put down his tea, and reached carefully beneath his collar, extracting the silver chain and what dangled from its short length. Tracy extended her fingers and brushed it, awe in her doe eyes. "Blimey, look how it shines. And so small. Does it feel heavy?"

The angel shook his head. "Like nothing at all. Just the chain. It's very vibrant though, is it not?"

"As red as blood. Such tiny inscriptions."

"Angel script again."

"How is Crowley faring with his?"

The angel made a face and leaned back. "Testing it," he said with distain.