Magdalen Walks

With a grunt of satisfaction, she wriggles a little closer - but finds a hip instead of a shoulder to tuck her head against, and no answering arm slung across her midsection. It takes a little while, but finally some minuscule hindsection of her brain notes that this is deeply irregular, and - after a few seconds more - one bleary yellow eye slits open.



The hand in Aziraphael's stiffens.