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'I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things,
We can do the tango just for two.
I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings,
Be a Valentino just for you.'
The angel and demon had just returned from dining at the Ritz when Crowley sheepishly suggested that they dance. Demons had always been one for dancing, although it had never been eloquent. Often it was Freak Dancing and the Cupid Shuffle, as demons had been responsible for creating the two. Heaven has never been one for dancing in general. They didn’t quite see the point. Moving and flailing your body about for the fun of it? No thank you. But, Crowley was no longer a demon and Aziraphale was no longer an angel.
'Ooh love, ooh loverboy.
What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?
Set my alarm, turn on my charm,
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy.'
Of course, the angel had accepted immediately. Why wouldn’t he? With a snap of the demon’s fingers, an old vinyl record began playing. Aziraphale scarcely recognized it as Queen’s Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, as he had heard it once from the demon. Gently holding out his hand, Crowley’s serpentine gaze looked at his angel, sending a silent request. Aziraphale smiled and took his demon’s hand. Pulling the ethereal being close to his chest, Crowley placed a well-manicured hand on the angel’s plush hips. Aziraphale moved his free hand up to Crowley’s sharp shoulder. They began to sway.
'Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster).
Ooh, ooh, can you feel my love heat?
Come on and sit on my hot-seat of love
And tell me how do you feel right after all.
I'd like for you and I to go romancing.
Say the word: your wish is my command.'
The pair basked in the warm glow of the bookshop and each other. Methodically they waltzed about on the old wooden floors, who creaked with defiance at each step. Their hips followed the lyrics like a priest to church bells. Hands fluttered about, caressing skin more gentle than butterfly would. Eyes gazed lovingly into each other, cherishing the tiny universe’s within them. Their foreheads pressed against each other as blonde curls and fiery red locks intertwined.
'Oh love, ooh loverboy.
What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?
Write my letter.
Feel much better,
And use my fancy patter on the telephone'.
'When I'm not with you,
Think of you always.
(I miss those long hot summer nights)
I miss you,
When I'm not with you.
Think of me always,
Love you, love you.'
They reminisced about the past 6,000 years of want, of need. With the recent Not-End-Of-The-World and their respective trials, Heaven and Hell seemed to finally leave them alone. Worry about their side’s opinion faded like the sun and for now, the moon was nigh. Love sparked in the air brighter than the flames that had engulfed the old bookshop. Those who walked past could even feel it in the form of that aching feeling in your chest when you really love someone.
'Hey, boy, where do you get it from?
Hey, boy, where did you go?
I learned my passion,
In the good old-fashioned
School of loverboys
'Dining at the Ritz we'll meet at nine precisely
(one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock)
I will pay the bill, you taste the wine.
Driving back in style, in my saloon will do quite nicely,
Just take me back to yours that will be fine (come on and get it)'
Time ticked by and the unlikely pair continued to waltz. They could keep this up forever, literally. Though, the demon’s human habit of drowsiness began to creep in. As he yawned, the angel suggested that they head off to bed. Crowley gladly obliged.
'Ooh, love (there he goes again),
(he's my good old fashioned loverboy) ooh loverboy,
What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?
Everything's all right.
Just hold on tight.
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned (fashioned) loverboy.'