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As Crowley set his mug back on the table, his eyes were drawn to something unusual in the street. He saw a man trying to hang a poster on one of the bookshop's doorposts. He was about to stand up and shoo the shameless intruder away when he suddenly saw Aziraphale emerge from the bookshop and walk toward the man.
The demon was at first a little amused by Aziraphale's offended expression. The angel was probably outraged that someone would even think of sticking a poster on the stylish front of his bookshop. But it seemed that the fellow refused to take down his poster, so Aziraphale set about removing it himself.
Crowley then saw the guy start to get a little too close to Aziraphale and was ready to intervene again, but this time Aziraphale managed to get him to leave.
Crowley continued to watch the street until he was sure that Aziraphale was in the bookshop, and when he turned his head, he saw that the guy was still watching the bookshop with a vicious eye.
The demon made a small gesture with his hand, and from across the street, people watched in astonishment and some even amusement as the poster man stumbled, sending his posters flying in all directions.
Crowley couldn't suppress a mocking chuckle before picking up his mug and taking another sip.
"Still playing protector?"
Crowley looked up at Nina, who had come to set a plate of Eccles cakes on his table, and replied, "What do you expect, Nina, you can't just go against millennia of protective instinct.
Nina replied, "When you answer like that, I can't help but wonder if you're speaking literally or figuratively, and the worst part is, after all we've seen, I'm pretty sure it's literal."
Crowley raised his eyebrows, grinned, and replied, "Trust me, Nina, you really don't want to know."
He took a last sip of coffee and set the empty mug back on the table before getting up. He picked up the plate of cake, winked at Nina, and headed for the bookstore.
By the time he reached the store, the nuisance was gone.
Crowley entered the store and saw Aziraphale in the process of tearing the poster that had been taped to the doorpost into tiny pieces before it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Seeing this, Crowley couldn't help but chuckle slightly.
Aziraphale turned briskly toward him and exclaimed, "Oh, Crowley, my dear, there you are!"
The angel's gaze fell on the plate of cake in Crowley's hand, and the demon watched in amusement as Aziraphale's eyes lit up.
He handed the plate to Aziraphale and said softly, "I think a little treat will help after what you've just been through, don't you?"
Aziraphale's expression turned angry as he muttered, "Did you see that troublemaker? He dared to do this to my bookshop!"
The angel greedily grabbed one of the cakes and bit into it, obviously still irritated by the situation.
Then, as if the sweet pastry had already softened his mood, he continued in a satisfied tone, "Anyway, he's been well punished, all his posters... pfft... gone."
Crowley could neither hold back a chuckle nor hide his proud smile...
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously, "Crowley... are you by any chance responsible for what happened to him?"
Crowley looked right and then left and said in a nonchalant tone, "I may have had a little something to do with... the posters flying off..."
Aziraphale pout a little and asked, "You don't think I am strong enough to defend myself?"
Crowley sighed and replied, "I'll give you the same answer I gave Nina, it's hard to fight millennia of protective instinct."
Aziraphale didn't react, grabbed the plate of cake and sat down at his desk, saying nothing more.
Crowley, confused, figured he must have said something wrong, but the problem was, he had absolutely no idea what.
Knowing his angel when he was in that state, he figured he'd give it some time and come back to it a little later.
He went to make him a cup of tea and a few moments later placed it next to him on his desk. The angel looked up at him and said, "Thank you," and nothing else.
His expression was the same as before. Crowley didn't insist and sat down on the sofa. He began to read his newspaper, waiting until the angel was ready to talk to him.
When he reached the last page, nothing had changed, which meant the problem was obviously more serious than he thought.
He folded the paper and placed it on the small table.
He said quietly, "Angel, would you mind telling me what I said wrong, because right now I really don't know."
Aziraphale turned to him and seemed to start a sentence several times, stopping each time.
Crowley sat up a little on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. He asked softly, "Why don't you come sit next to me, maybe it'll be easier that way."
Aziraphale nodded, stood up, and came to sit beside him.
Crowley noticed that his fingers were fidgeting in his lap, so he gently placed his hand on the angel's nervous hands and said softly, "Angel, we said we wouldn't lie to each other anymore, so tell me what's on your mind without hesitation. I promise I won't get mad." Aziraphale looked up at him and asked, "Crowley, do you think I am incapable of protecting myself?"
Crowley replied directly, without thinking, "That is the last thing I think of you! You recently vanquished an army of demons with your halo, the two of us performed a miracle of awesome power, not to mention everything else I've seen you do over the millennia."
Aziraphale nodded and continued, "Then why are you talking about a protective instinct?"
Crowley raised his hand and laid it flat on the angel's chest, "Well, I've seen this angel who had a heart so big it drove him to go against God's orders to save children."
Gabriel looked him in the eye and asked gravely, "Aziraphale, who are they?"
Aziraphale hesitated slightly, his gaze shifting from Gabriel to Crowley, and he said, "They are..."
He looked at Sitis, Job and the children and continued, "His new children."
Gabriel looked at him sharply and Aziraphale added, "I... You have my word as an angel."
"When I witnessed you lie to Gabriel's face about Job's children, I was proud of you for having the courage to do it. But I also saw the sadness you felt when you thought you were damned for what you'd done, and how you were ready to face the consequences. When I caught the look on your face at the other end of the stone bench, that's when that instinct was born."
He raised his hand and gently caressed the angel's face before continuing, "Not because you're weak, on the contrary, it took incredible strength for you to do what you did. But I knew that this decision would hurt you until you had gone as far as you could along with Heaven."
Aziraphale nodded and replied, "I think I understand. Is that why you were so upset when I decided to help Gabriel?"
Crowley grumbled, "Why else would you think? It wasn't a homeless man you took in, it was the fucking Archangel Gabriel who tried to kill you the last time he saw you! So forgive me for not reacting rationally."
Aziraphale replied softly, "Don't be mad," he took Crowley's hand, still on his face, and kissed it tenderly before continuing, "And thank you."
Then he frowned and asked, "Tell me, was it also protective instinct, that scene you made with Mr. Brown in the pub?"
Crowley blushed slightly before replying, "He was sitting in my seat."
"So?" Aziraphale asked, raising an eyebrow.
Crowley grumbled, "It was my seat."
"Oh, we're territorial, I see."
The demon replied, "As far as you're concerned, always have been."
Aziraphale replied, "You know you'll never have to worry about that. I'll never let anyone take your place. Literally and figuratively."
Crowley replied in a determined tone, "And that's fine."
Aziraphale chuckled slightly and said, "You're too cute for words sometimes."
"Angel, I forbid you. I'm a demon, I'm not cu-"
"Yes, you are. Tell yourself whatever you want, but I know."
"No, you don't--"
"Crowley."
"What?!
"Shut up."
Crowley gave a mischievous little smile and replied, "Make me."
Aziraphale was no angel to turn down a challenge, so he smiled and leaned over the demon, his expression turning serious again as he murmured against his lips, "Thanks for always having my back. I love you."
That was enough to silence the demon, as it did every time the angel spoke those three words to him.
But Aziraphale still leaned over him and pressed his lips to the demon's. The long, tender kiss they shared expressed better than words what they both felt at that moment.
A little later, Azirapahle was reading on the sofa, one hand buried in Crowley's hair, the demon's head resting in his lap.
He looked down at him and said softly, "Will you let me protect you, too?"
Crowley caught the angel's hand in his hair, pressed it to his chest, and said, "You've done this before. More than once, instinctively. And the first time was on a wall, above a garden. You spread your wing to protect me from the rain."
Aziraphale chuckled slightly, "That hardly counts."
"To me it still and always will count more than anything, Angel."
The tone was unmistakable, so Aziraphale resumed his reading, burying his hand in the red strands again.
Whether it was him or Crowley, it seemed they were both wrong in their definition of their own nature.
Their nature was not that of angel or demon.
Their nature was to protect one another.
Since the beginning of time.