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"Angel! Angel! Come here! Heeeerrre!"
Aziraphale had just entered the bookshop and the first thing he noticed was the pleasant smell of orange, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves mixed with other spices and he murmured, "Mulled wine..."
Crowley called to him again from the back table in a whispering voice, "Angel!!! Come herre!"
Aziraphale wondered, a little confused, why the demon was talking like that.
He joined him and saw a three-quarter full glass and a bottle of what looked like homemade wine in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and asked Crowley, "What is this?"
Crowley replied in the same drawling voice, "I...I helped Justine move some boxes into her restaurant, and as a thank you, she gave me a bottle of mulled wine she'd just made. It... it's delicious, angel. Here."
He took the bottle and another glass and started to fill it, but Aziraphale stopped him and asked, "How many glasses did you have?"
Crowley spread two fingers of his hand and replied, "O...only three."
The angel replied, "Well, that's enough for today.
He tried to take the glass away from the demon, but Crowley grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward him with such force that Aziraphale had no choice but to let go and find himself sitting on the demon's lap.
The angel wrapped his arms around the demon's neck to prevent himself from slipping, for despite his iron grip, the demon's now obvious intoxication made his movements unsteady.
Aziraphale then protested, "Crowley, please let me get up. Besides, I'm too heavy for you."
Crowley put his finger over the angel's mouth and said in the same drawl, "No talking! No more talking. No more talking! No more talking! Talking is just.....unnecessary! I just want hugs and kisses. No more talking!"
He wrapped his arms around the angel and held him tight.
Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the demon's drunken antics as the words suddenly seemed to echo words from another era.
“ Aw, no dying! Enough dying.
No more dying! No more dying!
Dying is just... it's just... it's just... wrong!”
The angel, shocked, realized that Crowley was acting just as he had that night in Edinburgh in 1827.
Which meant... Laudanum.
No, impossible.
Mulled wine.
Of course!
Cloves and cinnamon!
Two ingredients common to both brews.
But then!
"Crowley! We've got to get you to safety! You could change size at any..."
The Angel didn't have time to finish his sentence as he found himself sitting on the floor with Crowley standing on the chair in front of him, yelling at him.
Even though he was three inches tall.
Aziraphale passed a hand over his face.
Above all, don't panic.
He said quietly, "Crowley, please. Small we can handle, but giant? We're going to have trouble, so if you have a way to control this, I beg of you, do it."
Then, seeing that the mini-demon had calmed down, he added softly, "If we go into the bedroom, at least we can try to minimize the damage when you get back to your normal size, okay?"
The demon grumbled and replied, "I don't feel like being a giant either, you know?"
This drew a small smile from the angel.
Aziraphale placed his hand in front of Crowley, palm up, inviting him to climb on.
Then he cupped his hand and said softly, "Sit down, my dear, you won't risk anything."
Crowley said nothing and slid along the angel's raised fingers to sit and lean against them.
"I don't mind being small if you take care of me all the time."
Aziraphale heard what he said and chuckled softly, then gently stroked his head with his fingertip as he replied, "Silly, I'll take care of you no matter how small you are. It seems easier for you the way it is, doesn't it?"
"Whatever!" the demon replied, drawing another light laugh from the angel.
Aziraphale couldn't help but tease him a little more, "Anyway, with that size, you can't stop me from telling you that you're cute!"
"Angel! I forbid you!" the demon shouted before punching the angel's fingers, who couldn't help but laugh again.
He murmured, "Adorable."
"Take that back!"
“Never, my dear.”
Another round of punches.
By the time they were done arguing, they had reached the bedroom.
Aziraphale gently placed the demon on his pillow before taking the unused handkerchief from his pocket and placing it beside him.
"What's this for?" the demon asked with a scowl.
Aziraphale sat down beside him, book in hand, and said softly, "If it lasts any longer, you can cover yourself with it."
Despite the demon's small stature, Aziraphale sensed his slight embarrassment as he replied, "Thank you, Angel," before standing and walking over to the angel and sitting against his thigh.
He simply said, "This is more comfortable. Now read to me."
Aziraphale was amused that little Crowley was so bossy.
He gently stroked the demon's head with his thumb before he began to read.
"During the reign of King Arthur, wishing made a difference. In that time, which was a very long time ago, kindness was said to bring reward, while the vain and the cruel got their comeuppance in a speedy manner. It was, to be sure, a perfect time for Tom Thumb to be born."
"Hey, Angel, I can't believe you're such a bastard as to read me a story about a little man," he gave Aziraphale a small, painless nudge on the thigh, and the Angel replied softly, "But Tom Thumb is not just any little man. Despite his condition, he has always moved forward in life. Thanks to his wits, his refusal to accept the fate to which his condition condemned him, some powers granted to him by a fairy, and a little mischief, he always managed to come out of dangerous situation unscathed. He reminds me of someone, you know."
He winked before stroking Crowley's head again, and Crowley was at a loss for an answer.
Aziraphale continued to read the story of Tom Thumb, the little demon nestled against his thigh.
“ As a parting gift, the King gave him seven white mice to draw his tiny coach and a bag of gold coins with his compliments. Tom Thumb arrived home to a great and wonderful celebration. Kate and Tim were there to welcome him, and all the little people came out of their hiding places to join in. The festivities went on and on for days and days, and if they haven't grown tired of all their merry-making, it goes on still.”
"And how did you like the story in the end, my dear?"
When he got no answer, he looked at the little demon and saw from his head, which was turned backwards, that he had fallen asleep.
The angel quietly closed the book, placed it beside him, and then leaned over the demon, gently taking him in his hand, placing him on the pillow and covering him with his handkerchief.
Little Crowley didn't even wake up, just rolled over onto his side and curled up under the improvised blanket.
Aziraphale lay down beside him and he also turned on his side to watch him sleep.
He murmured softly, "Big or small, I'll always protect you, I'll always take care of you."
He began to reach for the little demon when suddenly Crowley returned to his normal size and found himself much closer to Aziraphale, their faces only inches apart.
Crowley raised his hand, placed it on Aziraphale's cheek, and said quietly, "I heard what you just said."
Aziraphale smiled softly and replied, "I don't mind because it's the truth."
Crowley brought his face close to Aziraphale's and murmured against the angel's lips, "Thank you for looking out for me, Angel."
Then he closed the distance between them and kissed him tenderly. Just as he was about to pull away, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him and said mischievously, "How about no more talking, just more hugging and kissing?"
Crowley replied, "I was drunk. I don't remember."
Aziraphale pulled him close and said, "No more talking," before kissing him back.
There would be no more talking that night, just tender caresses and kisses just before falling asleep.
Talking wasn't necessary when it came to expressing their love for each other.