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Summary
''A-angel?'' he stuttered, dumbfounded.
He wanted to throw himself into his arms so desperately, his chest aching at the sight of the angel, but ultimately refrained from doing so because something about him felt off and he wasn't sure he could trust him yet. Had he been sent here on Heaven's orders, or did he come on his own?
''Not quite,'' Aziraphale answered.
Crowley elected to ignore his comment in favor of making his indignation known.
''What have they done to you?'' he practically yelled, eyeing him up and down with a disapproving look.
''Oh, but I've always been like this, love,'' Aziraphale replied.
Or : If Crowley can't have Aziraphale, maybe he can have his demonic version, much to the angel's utter dismay.