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Anywhere you want to go.
Aziraphale’s words reverberate in Crowley’s head, mingling with the echo of his own pleading offer, made some half century gone by.
“You… sure about that?” he can’t help asking. Though he has no real doubt. Crowley can tell when Aziraphale says things he doesn’t mean — and that isn’t happening now.
“Very,” Aziraphale confirms.
Crowley swallows. And overjoyed as he is, as much time as he’s had to dream of this impossible future where they now find themselves living, there is no reason he should suddenly feel so at a loss as to what to say, what to do, what to suggest, where to go…
“Although,” Aziraphale adds after a pause, hand still firm and grounding in Crowley’s, “we do have plenty of time to choose a destination. There’s no hurry. The world will still be here, after all.”
And that, Crowley realizes with a spark of happiness that he doesn’t even try to stop from blossoming into a smile, is true.
Wherever they want, whenever they want. One day at a time. No need to decide it all now.
Framed that way, it feels much more manageable… and no less glorious.
“What d’you think of heading back to the bookshop?” he proposes. “We can figure out a travel plan later.”
“An excellent idea.” Aziraphale beams. “Let’s go home.”
A trip does sound fun. Maybe they’ll revisit some places, for old time’s sake. Paris; Rome; whatever they’re calling Sumer these days. Maybe they’ll try somewhere new. Or visit Warlock; they haven’t been to the Americas in a while.
Perhaps they’ll go to Alpha Centauri, after all — if only because they can, and because when they tire of the stars they can return to Earth.
But for today, Crowley can’t think of a better destination than home.