Ineffable One Shots

One time in 1912...

[I have been working this for a while now, it took a lot of research. Please excuse any inaccuracies.
I have used what could be called a classic or cliché depending on who you are. It's the good ol' sharing a room and there's only one bed. Please hate me for it.
Anyway, I have wanted to do a Good Omens/Titanic crossover for a while now, so I hope you enjoy.]

TW: Attempted Suicide

The lights reflected in neon bursts on the rain soaked pavement, but was disturbed by the splashing footsteps of the beings drunkenly staggering through streets, holding on to each other like the closest of friends or the most endearing of lovers.
Unspokenly, they were a bit of both.
They spoke in slurred voices about things no passerby would understand, but they understood perfectly.
The one woman, a tall, slim, ginger with shades on despite the darkness of the night, came to a sudden halt. The other woman, a pale blonde who was shorter, round and blushing, stumbled at the other's stopping, as she was holding onto her for support.
They didn't often drink out in public, they preferred the safety and intimacy of the book shop. Tonight however, they decided to change things up.
They were only planning to stay a little while, maybe until midnight, but now they were both heavily intoxicated and it was almost 2:30.
The ginger woman in a dark suit stared up at the sky, still holding onto her companion. The thick rain drops collected on her dark glasses and poured down her face. She smiled and turned back to the shorter one, who was unapologeticly starring at her with big eyes.
"Aziraphale..." she raised her eyebrow. Aziraphale looked away, turning an even darker red. She still held on tightly to the ginger though.
The darkly clothed woman led Aziraphale to the edge of the road where a old black Bentley awaited them. The tall woman reached out to open a door for the other, but was rudely interrupted when a large truck raced by, spraying the pair with grimy puddle water. The cold slipped through their many layers much more effectively then the rain. They stood for a moment in the icy shock before the tall woman kicked the puddle she was now standing in and muttered "stupid modern cars..."
Their dream like trance was over and they both hurried into the car and turned on the heater. Because the car had a bit of hell in it, the heat was very slow to arrive.
Aziraphale shivered viciously after sobering up. The demon beside her repeated her actions.
"Well angel, never in my 6000 years have I been this cold," She complained.
"Now Crowley, that's a bit of an overstatement isn't it?"
"Well of course it is... that doesn't make it any less cold,"
They sat in awkward silence for a moment before the Angel voiced her thoughts.
"1912 got pretty chilly,"
Crowley chuckled bitterly and glanced back a Aziraphale. The angel's outline glowed fluorescent pink and purple, ringing her head  like a halo and reflecting off of her damp curls. Crowley's breathe caught in her throat.
She quickly glanced away as another bought of shivers racked her body. She thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. At the sharp motion, she was reduced to her sensible black sports bra and boxers. Aziraphale gasped.
"Crowley! What are you-"
"The clothing is wet, it's only going to make us colder. Here, you do the same and then you can miracle up a blanket for us, we'll share body heat,"
There was little logic in this plan. They could've just as easily given themselves warm, dry clothes. They could have made their original clothes dry faster, or make the car heat up more effectively. Deep down they both thought of this.
But opportunities like this don't come around as often as you would think, so Aziraphale leapt at the chance. 
As Aziraphale created a blanket for them to share, Crowley got rid of the gap between their seats, forming more of a bench then 2 car seats.
The two moved towards each other, awkwardly at first, and only stopped when their thighs touched. Aziraphale already had some of the blanket around her, and she reached behind Crowley's back to enclose her in the blanket. When the got settled for the most part, they were stiffly sitting side by side holding on to the opposite ends of the blankets.
"I don't think this is as effective as it it could be if we were... a bit closer," Aziraphale said carefully, not making any eye contact with Crowley. Crowley tilted her head and tried to read the angel's expression. After a moment she replied, trying to play it cool.
"We aren't strangers... get as close as you need for this to be... effective,"
Aziraphale waited, as if checking to make sure she wasn't joking. Then she slowly leaned onto Crowley's side. Aziraphale crossed one leg over her other, and now both of her legs were grazing Crowley's. Without hesitation, the Angel rested her head on the demon's shoulder, wedging her way into the crook of her neck. She let her eyes close contently and her hands rest on both of their bare laps.
Crowley became very conscious of her breathing.
It was very warm under the blanket now, and everywhere where their skin met. Once again, Crowley was reminded of their little misadventure in 1912, but she was almost certain that it had more meaning for her then for Aziraphale.
"Hey Angel, what do you remember of 1912," she asked softly.
When she got no reply, she carefully looked down to see the Angel sleeping in peace, her delicate eyes closed and beautiful lips slightly opened. Crowley sighed and tried to relax, but her body felt electric and her mind kept wandering back to those romantic days and tragic nights....