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    Summary

    Crowley yanks the polaroid off the dingy wall of photos, his thumb tracing the overexposed outline of the messy stark-white curls he had spent scanning 6,000 years worth of crowds for. The Aziraphale from 14 hours before held two matching rings at eye level, unabashedly beaming. Beside him, a not yet hungover Crowley stood with his hands wrapped across the angel, dimples marking his cheeks.

    "Find anything interesting?", Aziraphale mused, half-interested as he prodded the tabernacle with a handkerchief-swaddled hand.

    Quickly pocketing the evidence, Crowley cleared his throat, air puffing through his teeth as he plastered on a smile that paled in resemblance to the one now pressed against his chest pocket.

    "Nope, nothing at all."

    ----

    A silly little ficlet that imagines what would happen if they got drunkenly married in Las Vegas.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    3,118
    Chapters:
    2/?
    Comments:
    10
    Kudos:
    13
    Bookmarks:
    1
    Hits:
    164