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[a_fell]

It's nice.

Not to have to open his eyes until he's halfway down the stairs, stretching luxuriantly. To know the layout of his flat and the positioning of the plants enough to be able to wander around barefoot. To know that there won't be any erratically-timed chambermaids interrupting him, or shots fired at looters startling him awake. It's nice to get a full night's sleep, and wake up with the other half of the bed still warm.

He's shuffling around in the kitchen, now, still half asleep, wearing a pair of Crowley's pyjama trousers. Say what you like about the demon's lack of sartorial flexibility, he has excellent taste in fabrics. The kettle's just boiled, late afternoon sun is pouring through the kitchen window, and for the moment everything is really quite spiffing.

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[aj_crawley]

The silence in the shop, punctuated only by the muted sounds of traffic, is broken by the sound of the bell over the door jingling softly. Given the circumstances, this has the potential to either improve the angel's day, or detract from it ever so slightly.

All depends, really.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He's almost certain that the sign was flipped over to 'closed', which leaves only two possible options: his demon or (perhaps he shudders, slightly, 'though he'd never admit it) Miss Schaeffer. So it is with a teatowel clutched primly in front of him that he appears, still only on the borders of 'awake', in the doorway.

"...oh."

[aj_crawley]

She pauses in the act of shucking off her jacket, somewhat affronted.

"Nice to see you, too."

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He looks her up and down, looking rather more awake, and then smiles. Or at least forms a decent approximation of one.

"Tea?"

He's already on his way back into the kitchen before she answers.

[aj_crawley]

She follows him, a slight frown creasing her forehead, and leans against the kitchen doorframe. She slips her sunglasses from her face, fingernails tapping idly against one of the lenses.

"Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

That prompts a genuine smile. Small, perhaps, but genuine.

"Well it is warmer there."

[aj_crawley]

Her face smoothes a little; she can't quite see the smile, from here, but she can hear it in Aziraphael's voice.

"Touché."

She wanders over to stand behind the angel as he makes the tea, sliding her arms about his waist then remembering, with some irritation, that she's no longer tall enough to rest her chin on his shoulder and watch what he's doing.

"Sleep alright?"

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

"Mmhmm."

He carefully extricates himself in order that he can hand her a mug of tea then, quite without forethought, he bends to kiss her on the forehead before taking up his own mug, wrapping both his hands around it.

He's chewing his lip.

[aj_crawley]

Vaguely worried, Crowley looks down into her tea, swirling it gently around the mug. She considers asking Aziraphael what the matter is, but... well. What with recent events - on both sides of the Atlantic - she imagines that she can probably hazard a reasonable guess.

She takes a sip of her tea.

Crowley doesn't want to ask him when he's leaving.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He's leaning back against the kitchen counter, barely avoiding a small puddle of milk he's spilled. His fingers tap restlessly against the side of his mug.

"Have a good day?"

[aj_crawley]

A non-committal shrug.

"Alright. Out and about a bit. Susan's bachelorette party tonight, as well."

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

And he doesn't ask if she was working because he genuinely doesn't want to fight. Really, he doesn't. It just... niggles at him, like a loose thread you can't help but pick at. And then, of course, there's the small part of him that really doesn't want to know...

Silence is safer, when all's said and done.

[aj_crawley]

Crowley's silent as well, contemplating the way her hands - smaller, now - can't quite lace themselves around her mug. She's thinking about the past weeks, maybe. Or what the coming weeks might hold in store.

She's not particularly looking forward to heading back to work.

The demon shifts her weight from one foot to the other. It brings her slightly closer to Aziraphael.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He lets out a breath and makes the decision not to think about it. It's probably a sin, but almost everything is, when you come down to it. Especially when Crowley's involved. There are compromises that must be made, and questions that mustn't be asked, and every last bit of it is worth it.

He puts his mug down on the counter, visibly relaxing, and takes a step closer to her, sliding his arm around her waist.

"Welcome home."

The outside world doesn't have to matter, just now.

[aj_crawley]

Only sometimes, it does. It'd be nice, but sometimes, there's no ignoring reality, no matter where one would prefer to be.

Crowley tips her head back to look up at Aziraphael, free hand settling comfortably at his hip.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Aziraphael leans down and rests his forehead against hers, closeness blurring features into just pale skin and yellow eyes which are Crowley, no matter what the physical form might be. He tilts his head slowly, until his lips are just touching hers, and smiles.

[aj_crawley]

After a moment, Crowley grins in return, her fingers tracing over the dip of Aziraphael's hip before lightly snapping the waistband of the pyjama trousers.

"Mine."

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He pulls back slightly and grins unrepentantly.

"You know you could always borrow my clothes. Besides, it isn't as if they would fit at the moment."

[aj_crawley]

She leans back a little, in order to eye her hips speculatively.

"Yes they would. Just have to tie the drawstring a bit tighter."

Pause.

"I could roll the ends of the legs up."

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

"Aah, mental images."

[aj_crawley]

"Or you could shut up," she suggests, helpfully.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He's still snorting quietly.

"Or you could shut me up."

[aj_crawley]

Acidly:

"Worst come-on ever. Just so you know."

It doesn't stop her, however, from leaning up just enough to touch her lips to Aziraphael's again - although slightly more purposeful, this time.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

Terrible line it might very well have been, but it worked. That's really the pivotal point.

One hand still resting on the curve of her hip, the other comes up to cup her face as he tilts his head, kissing her gently, almost innocently.

[aj_crawley]

Almost.

With more grace than you'd credit her with, if you'd ever seen her dance, Crowley pivots the two of them until, with her back to the kitchen counter, she can set down her tea without breaking the kiss.

The free hand then drifts up to card lightly through the hair at the nape of Aziraphael's neck.