Archive of Our Own ^beta

"… pulverize it and add it to the tinctures and crems and whatnot…" Cassidy rants away while he and Jesse are sitting on the church’s steps, sharing a smoke.

"Do you listen to yourself sometimes?" Jesse wants to know, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I swear every word is true!" Cassidy insists. "Why do you think all the labels are in French, or written in such tiny font?"

He gets distracted by a car, rolling slowly towards them. Not just a random pickup or Emily’s car, but a vintage Bentley. When it stops in front of the church, Jesse passes the cigarette to Cassidy before he gets up and takes a few steps towards the two men who get out of the car.

"Hello!" A blond guy dressed in white waves at Jesse, while the other one, dressed all in black, leans against the Bentley’s hood.

"Can I help you?" Jesse asks him, because Annville is never the destination of people in such cars. "Did you take a wrong turn or something?"

"You’re the preacher, aren’t you?" the guy in white asks in return, and when Jesse nods, the guy practically beams at him, while Cassidy crushes the butt of the cigarette and comes closer to stand in Jesse’s shadow.

"I’m Jesse Custer," Jesse introduces himself. "Annville’s resident preacher."

At that, the happy guy hugs him, which makes Cassidy grit his teeth.

"Bloody Brits!" he growls behind Jesse. "I can’t believe there are bloody Brits in Annville, Padre!"

But instead of watching out, because you can never know with Brits, Jesse hugs the guy in white back. Only a little, but still.

"I’m Aziraphale and that’s…" the blond guy says, then looks over his shoulder at the other one. "Oh, dear, would you come closer already? It’s him!"

The guy in black appears so quick at the guy in white’s… ehm, Aziraphale’s side, Jesse isn’t even sure he saw him move. It must be the whiskey he and Cassidy shared before the smoke.

"That’s Crowley." Aziraphale says. "We’re…"

"And who are you?" Crowley wants to know, looking over Jesse’s shoulder at Cassidy, who’s wearing ridiculous cooking gloves, a Vietnamese hat and a black laced parasol, glaring at them warily over the rims of his sun-glasses.

"Cassidy," he just says, and leaning closer to Jesse, he adds. "They aren’t just bloody Brits, Padre, there’s something off with’em, so we better watch it."

"They’re Genesis’ parents." The way Jesse says it, isn’t a question.

"It’s him, indeed." Crowley nods and Aziraphale gives him the ‘I told you’ glare.

"Be our guests, then," Jesse offers and takes them though the back door, so Crowley doesn’t have to enter the church.

They’re drinking pretty delicious tea. Which may be due to the fact that Cassidy hasn’t drunk tea in almost a century. Or maybe because Aziraphale’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of tea bags.

While pouring hot water into mugs, the angel said, "Now, that’s some delicious tea," and the tea bags disappeared.

From the look on Jesse’s face he hasn’t had such tea in a while, either. They’re both used to colder and much stronger beverages, but you can’t get wasted with an angel in the house. At least not at first night, he guesses.

"So, Genesis is your kid," Cassidy starts casually, adding a little bit of whatever is in his flask to his tea.

Aziraphale nods and Crowley raises an eyebrow.

"I’m simply gonna ask and you’re free not to answer, but I hope you will, because HOW?" Cassidy adds, and Jesse freezes with his mug halfway between his lips and the table.

"He means, how did you know that Genesis has chosen me?" he jumps in, to cover for Cassidy’s complete lack of filter.

"Yeah, that, too, but I’m actually wondering: who knocked up who?" Cassidy continues, ignoring Jesse’s ‘Shut the fuck up’ glare completely. "I mean, since you’re both lads, y’know?"

"Cass!" Jesse hides his face in his hands for a moment, while Crowley snorts and Aziraphale calmly says, "But of course."

Cassidy still sits there as if the question he just asked wasn’t incredibly intimate and inappropriate.

"We weren’t always male," Aziraphale starts.

"We weren’t always in human form," Crowley adds, just to confuse Cassidy a little more.

They were bodiless at the beginning, when earth was just a random something that happened during the Big Bang. It was so long ago that Crowley isn’t even sure if there was consciousness the way there is now. He just remembers feeling drawn to Aziraphale the moment they met on the battlefield.

Luckily for him, the angel felt the same. During one of those Good versus Evil battles, they fell behind and became one. Literally. The black smoke and the white smoke united, and when they got torn apart by the angels and demons who eventually discovered them, there it was: grey smoke.

They had created it without being ordered to. Free will wasn’t a thing yet, and disobedience was unheard of, so their punishment was to be separated and have their child locked up and hidden away.

They found each other again, millions if not billions of years later. Crowley as the first temptation of mankind and Aziraphale as the guardian of Eden and it started all over again. The attraction, the feeling of belonging to each other, and it has never stopped since…

"Is that why Genesis is bodiless?" Jesse asks and they nod.

"But why did you name them after a band that didn’t even exist back then?" Cassidy throws in with a grin.

"How did you know that I have Genesis? That they’re here?" Jesse asks again, hoping for a real answer this time. "And why me?"

"We were following rumours since we stopped the apocalypse," Aziraphale starts.

"I knew there was an apocalypse!" Cassidy exclaims. "But then again, Britain’s been pretty much an apocalypse for centuries to us Irish so…"

"Cass, let Aziraphale talk." Jesse hushes him, amused.

"Sorry, love." Cassidy pats Jesse’s arm. "Sorry, Aziraphale, go on."

"A few weeks ago we heard of two minor angels on the way to Annville to get an escaped entity back, and we just knew it was our child," Aziraphale explains. "We didn’t name them, by the way."

"If we had, it would be less biblical," Crowley throws in.

"So, you know Fiore and DeBlanc?" Jesse asks.

"What kind of names are those, anyway?" Cassidy mumbles under his breath.

"Not really." Aziraphale shakes his head.

"These assholes were talking a lot of shit about Aziraphale because of me, so I would love to rip them apart!" Crowley growls.

"I did that already," Cassidy tells him. "It felt pretty good and yeah, they really were massive gobshites."

"You did?" Jesse asks, surprised, because he has no memory of it. "When? Why?"

"Remember when you took a sip from my flask and it knocked you out right there and then, in the church?" Cassidy reminds him. "These guys showed up and wanted to cut you open with a chainsaw!" He still sounds furious, even talking about it. "Let’s say I turned the tables."

"Cass, I don’t know… You saved me..." Jesse’s flustered and flushed. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"There was no need to, Padre." Cassidy waves it off like it’s not a big deal.

"Thank you," Jesse says softly and the way he’s looking at Cassidy makes the vampire blush.

"Did they suffer?" Crowley wants to know, and Cassidy turns very serious for a moment.

"They did," he confirms grimly.

Crowley nods at that. "Good."

"So, what can you do around here for fun?" Aziraphale wants to know, taking Crowley’s hand between his own.

"Well, Annville isn’t exactly famous for its fun attractions," Jesse admits, "but there’s a bar, not too far from here."

"That’s where we first met." Cassidy adds cheerily. "We beat up a few idiots in there, a while ago, so it’s better not to mention that you know us. The owner might still not be too happy about that."

"One of them was talking about beating up his own kid," Jesse throws in, and his hand curls into a fist at the memory alone.

"Oh, and there’s a whorehouse in Toadvine," Cassidy continues, taking a sip from his flask. Aziraphale chokes on the sip of tea he just took.

"Cass!" Jesse says, amused, and Crowley barks out a laugh, but pats Aziraphale’s back. He likes the vampire for making the angel a little flustered; it’s a sight Crowley enjoys a lot.

Jesse tells them that there’s more to Toadvine than just the whorehouse (not much more, though) and offers to let them stay as long as they’d like, which they gladly accept, before calling it a night.

"So, what do you think of them?" Crowley wants to know as soon as they’re alone in the guest room Jesse showed them.

"I’m so glad we found our child." Aziraphale bounces on his heels excitedly, at which Crowley can’t help but smirk and nod in agreement.

"Let’s get them out of the preacher tomorrow," he suggests, "and we ‘ll move on to the City of Angels that you want to see, before heading home?"

"Yes. And yet..." Aziraphale sighs as he sits down on the bed. The only bed in the room, he notices absentmindedly. Not that it would matter. Neither he nor Crowley needs sleep anyway.

"You want to stay." Crowley isn’t asking. "Here. In the middle of nowhere. I bet they don’t even have decent sushi here."

"I know, my dear." Aziraphale nods. "But sushi isn’t my priority right now." He gets up and puts his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. "Did you notice the love and affection that’s all around them? Jesse and Cassidy, I mean?"

"You mean the fear and desperation," Crowley corrects him, because yes, of course he noticed. It fills every room the human and the vampire are in like a fog.

"Exactly." Aziraphale bounces again. "Isn’t that just a weird mixture? I’m intrigued."

"Can’t you just leave them as they are?" Crowley doesn’t care if he sounds a bit whiny.

"But it’s all mutual! The love and the fear and I’m the last person who’d let mutual love go to waste," Aziraphale insists.

"You’re not a person," Crowley says, just to say something.

He knows Aziraphale’s determined tone of voice very well. He also knows that the angel will drag him into his plans, whatever they may be.

Crowley will probably allow it, because Aziraphale may have rubbed off on him a little, after all this time. And also because Crowley’s bored and toying with a town like Annville could be entertaining at least.

While Jesse sleeps and Cassidy does whatever he does at night, they drive around; full speed, of course, and nobody pays them any attention, unless they want to be noticed.

They hear things about the preacher. Good things and bad things, lies, rumors: he has a short temper, his daddy was a preacher here before him and no one knows anything about his mama.

Him and Tulip O’Hare are a ticking time bomb. Annville desperately prays and hopes they won’t end up together again, because the preacher won’t stay a preacher then.

Oh, and there’s this strange, skinny man living in the church’s attic now. He looks like an homeless addict and everyone appreciates the preacher’s attempt to save the man’s soul, but yeah, good luck with that.

The bartender isn’t a big fan of Jesse Custer, but the preacher and this weird friend of his leave a lot of money in the bar, so he takes it anyway.

They hear the story of a teenager who killed everybody’s darling and tried to shoot himself. The shotgun jammed, and he shot himself in the face, but survived. People say, with what’s left of his face, he’s already punished enough. Others say that he needs to finish what he started and rot in hell.

Crowley and Aziraphale both scowl at that, remembering the foul reek of hell. Rotting, indeed. Well, at least in one level of hell. It has plenty of dimensions and only clueless humans would wish landing in one of them on one another.

They hear about the most powerful man in Annville. Literally powerful, because he owns the power plant and the meat industry in this small Texas town. A lot of disgusting things go on there, behind closed doors, or so people assume.

The boy with the disfigured face shows up at church the next day after school and wants to talk to the preacher.

"This poor boy!" Aziraphale mumbles at the same time as Cassidy says, "Assface scared the living shit out of me when I first met him. He actually still does…" on the way to the kitchen.

Crowley just nods to himself in silent approval, because that’s indeed a face you don’t want to see in your darkest and ugliest nightmares. He’s a little fond of the boy who did that to himself. Even hell wouldn’t come up with such a face. Not in thousand years.

"I have to heal…" Aziraphale mutters under his breath, and Crowley stops him before Aziraphale can walk over.

"You can’t do that, Angel." Crowley puts his hand on Aziraphale’s arm and leans in to whisper into his ear. "Imagine what would happen, if he got miraculously healed, out of nowhere."

"But look at him!" Aziraphale sounds miserable. Crowley hates being the one responsible for it, but he has to continue.

"The hillbillies would freak out. They would probably blame the strangers, which means us." He gesticulates between Aziraphale and himself. "Or they would declare it a miracle. Which yes would be true, but also has the potential to create religious fanatics or lure the existing ones to town. Do you really want to risk that?"

Aziraphale shakes his head. Religious fanatics always make him angry. They claim to speak for God, but they get it all so wrong! God has nothing against gays or atheists. God is absolutely pro choice, that’s why humans have free will and common sense.

The thought of accidentally creating more of those idiots makes Aziraphale sick, even though he technically can’t get sick.

"You’re right, dear. I know you’re right." He sighs. "But I’m not giving up. I’ll come up with something to help him, you’ll…"

"… why can’t you just admit, that you stole the communion wine from a fucking church and that you’ll never, ever fix the air conditioning?" They get interrupted by a woman yelling in the kitchen and a second later Cassidy passes them by.

"Can I introduce you to Emily Woodrow?!" he yells back in the kitchen’s direction. "She has trust issues!"

"Yeah, because you have truth issues!" Emily stands in the doorway, looking furious. "And who are you?" she adds in a much friendlier voice, seeing Aziraphale and Crowley for the first time.

"They are friends of Jesse’s father," Cassidy says, before Crowley or Aziraphale has the chance to come up with an explanation. "And are helping me to fix the air conditioning!" With that, Cassidy grabs Aziraphale’s arm and pulls him towards the church.

"Yes, you do that while I keep Miss Woodrow company." Crowley winks, waving at Aziraphale, and follows Emily to the kitchen.

"I’m the church’s bookkeeper and organist." Emily introduces herself more properly, giving him a half smile. "I would offer you a drink, but I’m sure Cassidy has emptied every bottle already."

"Even the communion wine," Crowley says, amused. "Yes, I’ve heard that."

"You’re talking weird." a boy states and Crowley only then notices a little boy and a girl sitting at the table. The girl’s drawing something, while the boy’s rummaging in his backpack.

Emily says, "Tommy!", with exasperation. "Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Crowley, this rude little boy, who forgot his manners is my son, Tommy." She gives Tommy a scolding look, that says they will talk about his behavior later. "And that’s Alice."

"But he does talk weird!" Alice backs her brother up.

"Because I come from Britain," Crowley tells them. "That’s the country your ancestors betrayed and ran away from to found America."

"Really, Mom?" the children ask in unison, turning to their mother who just stands there with an open mouth.

"Well," she says slowly, staring at Crowley disapprovingly while he obliviously looks back at her. "That’s a very drastic way to put it, you know? You’ll learn all about it at school."

"Hey, little lady, what are you drawing?" Crowley changes the subject swiftly, addressing Emily’s daughter.

The girl beams at him and slides the drawing closer to him so Crowley can take a look. It shows three figures.

"That’s Mommy!" Alice points to a figure that has long light brown hair and wears an orange dress. "That’s the preacher." The drawn version of Jesse has wild black hair standing up and is wearing all black. "And that’s Cassidy." Drawn Cassidy seems to wear jeans and a unicorn t-shirt and is standing next to Jesse.

"Oh my God." Emily turns red, looking at the picture more closely, because the drawn Emily has heart eyes and is watching drawn Jesse, who’s not looking at her at all, but at drawn Cassidy, who has little drawn hearts around his head. "That’s nice, sweetie." she tells her daughter weakly and flips the embarrassing drawing so it faces the table. "Don’t you two have homework to do?

"Would you tell me the other dirty little secrets of this town, Miss Woodrow?" Crowley asks with as much of an apologetic smile as he can muster, while the kids really start doing homework.

Emily looks at him in silence for a moment. "I need some fresh air." She nods in the patio’s direction and Crowley gracefully gets up and follows her.

"I won’t bad-mouth Jesse," she tells him, fumbling in her pockets for a squished pack of cigarettes.

"Even though he isn’t interested?" Crowley looks at her, a sneer playing on his lips.

"He’s my boss." She blushes but shakes her head as she lights a match and then a cigarette. "Want one?"

"Ah, but of course," Crowley agrees, to both, her statement and her offer. "Your kids have figured it all out, though," he adds after a moment, lighting his cigarette off hers. "Smartasses."

"What do you want to know?" Emily asks him straight out. "I can tell you more about Odin Quincannon; if you’re friends of John’s you know him already.

"Yeah yeah, Meat & Power, I know, I know." Crowley’s glad he remembers at least a little something of what he and Aziraphale picked up on the streets of Annville the night before.

"He wants the church," Emily says, dragging at her cigarette. "He insists it’s rightfully his because of a bet…"

"Does he, now?" Crowley asks with real interest for the first time.

"He hates God," Emily continues. "Never got over the death of his whole family. It was a freak accident and now he’s got like a personal vendetta against the Custers, because he blames God, but can’t get him."

Crowley just nods at that, watching the lit tip of his cigarette.

"People say he likes to listen to what’s going on in the slaughterhouse," Emily adds with dread. "I hope that’s not true, because how sick would that be?" She finishes smoking. "I avoided working for him so far and I want to keep my job here, even if it’s not best paid."

And because she still hopes to get the preacher. She doesn’t have to say it out loud, Crowley can see it anyway.

"What’s going on between you and Miss Woodrow?" Aziraphale wants to know, following Cassidy to the back of the church.

"She hates that Jesse lets me stay here." Cassidy sighs. "And she hates that I’m wearing clothes donated to the poor, though I am as poor as a church mouse."

Aziraphale mhm’s in agreement, because yes, Cassidy’s jeans are at least one size too big for him, and though they look washed, there are still paint stains on them that are probably the reason the former owner donated them.

"And she hates me for not having fixed the church’s air conditioning yet." Cassidy’s pats the device. "Can you help me with that, maybe? Because I don’t even know how to turn the damn thing on."

"That thing?" Aziraphale takes a closer look at it, pointing with his index fingers at the air conditioner here and there but not quite touching it. "You clean it and it will be as good as new."

When Cassidy looks at him skeptically, he adds: "Trust me, I’m an angel, after all."

The vampire nods at that and stares at the air conditioner for one more moment, before asking: "Can you fix me, too?"

"I beg you pardon?" Aziraphale looks at him a little confused. "I always assumed vampires had supernatural healing abilities."

"We do," Cassidy confirms, giving Aziraphale a quick side glance before he stares at the air conditioner again, that has stopped leaking. "But I mean, can you make me human again?"

"Oh," Aziraphale says softly, because ‘OH’, and without his enhanced hearing, Cassidy would have missed it. "Was it your own decision to be turned?"

"No." Cassidy shakes his head. "It may sound like a crazy story, but I swear it happened exactly like I tell you: a… swamp monster attacked and bit me."

Aziraphale raises an eyebrow at that but doesn’t say anything, so Cassidy continues: "I mean, maybe it was a regular vampire who had been waiting in the water for decades. It looked inhuman, so I can’t really tell for sure, but I totally didn’t agree becoming a vampire. Why is that important?"

"Because if you had made that decision of your own volition, I couldn’t do anything," Aziraphale explains cautiously.

"So, there is a way?" Cassidy finally looks at him straight and Aziraphale sees and feels the sudden hope on Cassidy’s face.

The angel sighs. "Yes, but you would immediately reach your actual age."

"I would instantly turn hundred and twenty and pretty much die on the spot, but as a human," Cassidy repeats to make sure he got it right.

"Exactly." Aziraphale squeezes his shoulder. "I’m sorry, Cassidy."

"Nah, no need to be sorry for me." Cassidy makes a disdainful gesture. "I just thought that maybe…" He shakes his head and sighs. "You’re not my fairy godmother, right?" Continuing, he looks away. "I’m just so sick of watching everyone die around me. I don’t want to watch him grow old and die while my mug still looks exactly the same." The vampire speaks quietly, rubbing first his neck and then his face. "I knew it was stupid to stay here longer than necessary, y’know?"

Aziraphale makes an understanding sound, because he knows whom Cassidy is talking about and he can feel Cassidy’s pain.

"He said he likes having me around," Cassidy says. "And I like to be around because being with him is never boring, even though we’re in the middle of nowhere…"

"Why not just tell him?" Aziraphale suggests softly. "Enjoy it as long as it lasts."

"No!" The vampire objects immediately. "There’s nothing to tell." And after a moment of silence he adds. "Would you and Crowley take me with you when you leave? I haven’t been in London since forever. Maybe I’ll go back to Ireland, check out what’s left of the Cassidys in Dublin…"

"Cassidy, I don’t think..." Aziraphale starts gently. “I don’t know when we’re leaving yet…"

"Just let me know, okay?" Cassidy’s voice is a little strained. "I’m always ready to go. Nothing holds me here…"

They both know it’s a lie.

As Aziraphale slowly makes his way through the church’s private rooms, he sees that Jesse and that boy with the disfigured face are still there, so he smiles.

"Who’s this?" the boy wants to know.

"That’s Aziraphale, he’s..." Jesse stops for a second to come up with something, but Aziraphale takes over.

"I’m a friend of preacher Custer’s father," he repeats Cassidy’s earlier introduction of him and Crowley to Miss Woodrow.

He might not be such a skilled liar as Crowley, but he knows that continuity is important. You have to stick to one story about the same thing, if it comes to people who know each other and could compare the story you told them.

Though Aziraphale is pretty sure Crowley could get away with telling every single citizen of Annville a different story about who they are and what they do or want in their town. He may not be an expert in telling lies, but Jesse gives him a tiny nod, so he seems to be okay with this introduction.

"I’m Eugene Root," the boy introduces himself. "I didn’t know the other preacher Custer, but my dad said he was a good man."

"Thanks, Eugene," Jesse says, a little impatient. "Listen, can we continue our talk on Sunday, because now I have to…"

"Sure, preacher, thank you for your time." Eugene nods.

"Why don’t you go and do whatever demands your attention, while me and Mr. Root here have a conversation?" Aziraphale suggests.

Jesse raises an eyebrow behind the teenager’s back, mouthing "You don’t have to" at Aziraphale, but the angel waves him away, already asking Eugene questions, so the preacher just sneaks out of his own church, looking for Cassidy.

In the kitchen, he finds Emily and her children, gathering their stuff to go home.

"Have you seen Cassidy?" he asks, making the kids snicker and Emily’s ears turn red.

"He was talking about fixing the air conditioner with that family friend of yours." She’s steering her children to the door and avoids looking at Jesse too long, or so it seems to him. "See you on Sunday."

He notices something on the floor, picks up a crumpled up piece of paper and wants to call after the Woodrows, but they are already gone. Jesse smooths the drawing, because that’s what it is, and smirks, looking at it. Then he folds Emily out of the picture and pins it to the fridge. It’ll give Cassidy a good laugh, when he shows up again.

Crowley leans against the Bentley, watching Aziraphale say good-bye to the boy with an asshole instead of a face.

Hugging the boy, Aziraphale notices Crowley rolling his eyes and gesturing to wrap it up.

"Did you do anything?" Crowley moves his head slightly in the boy’s direction, as soon as he’s out of earshot.

"Not yet." Aziraphale sighs, coming closer. "His name is Eugene..."

"So, it’s not Arseface?" Crowley mumbles. "Who would have thought."

"… and the entire town thinks he killed one of the most popular girls," Aziraphale continues, ignoring Crowley’s mumbling. "But he didn’t!"

"No way!" Crowley throws in sarcastically.

"He told me the whole story and Annville thinking of him as a murderer bothers him much more than the actual condition his face is in." Aziraphale seems really invested in this whole story, so Crowley can’t help it and adds: "He’s also blind?" Aziraphale just huffs at that and rolls his eyes.

"And yet, you didn’t do anything stupid, like healing him." Crowley pats his shoulder. "I’m very proud of you, angel!"

"You’re still right about the miracle healing," Aziraphale admits. "But I think I can do something that is almost as good and helpful… Will you accompany me to the Loaches’ home?"

"I would love to." Crowley’s voice is full of false regret. "Unfortunately, I’m up to something myself."

"What is it?" Aziraphale looks at him suspiciously.

"I’m going to have a conversation about heaven and real actual hell with a local who wants to take over this church," Crowley says.

"He can’t just take it over, it’s Jesse’s!" Aziraphale says, outraged. "But why are you suddenly caring about what happens to churches?"

"I’m not caring about it at all," Crowley defends himself immediately. "Genesis has chosen the preacher for a reason and the church is part of it." And because Aziraphale beams at him and wants to say something ridiculous, Crowley’s sure of that, he adds, "Do you want to come to the slaughterhouse with me?" before Aziraphale can say anything.

"Not in the slightest." The angel shudders. "But I have to hurry now, otherwise it’s going to be too late in the evening, even for a late visit. Can I tempt you to give me a lift to the Loaches’?"

"You’re becoming better and better at tempting." Crowley grins while they get into the car.

"I’m learning from the best," Aziraphale says fondly, as the demon starts the engine.

He tells Mrs Loach something about being a British friend of the Custers’. Yes, and a preacher, too, of course.

Did Jesse Custer tell her that he had heard about Tracy and would love to pray with her?

No? Mrs Loach didn’t get any messages from the preacher? Well, maybe she could quickly check her mailbox again?

Ah, yes, there it is! Hidden in the spam folder! That happens so often! And yes, there is a picture of Aziraphale attached too.

Who would have thought Jesse Custer had the time to write emails between bar brawls and drinking himself into a coma with that strange Irish young man who seems to live in the church. It’s more likely that Emily Woodrow, God bless her, had sent that email. Poor girl has lost her husband too soon, but she’s doing the best she can to provide for her kids. And yes of course Aziraphale will pray for her, too.

"Tracy, sweetie, there is a preacher from England who would love to meet you!" Mrs Loach announces as she and Aziraphale enter her daughter’s room.

For a brief second Aziraphale thinks that maybe it’s not as bad as Eugene had told him, but it’s actually even worse. The girl’s dead, eyes open or not. Her heart may be still beating, but that’s it, Aziraphale feels that instantly. The mother isn’t ready to accept it yet, and Jesse and Genesis have made it even worse by making Tracy open her eyes.

"This is a beautiful room," Aziraphale says instead of "You need to let her go. Even if it hurts."

"Thank you." Mrs Loach beams at him. "I keep everything just the way Tracy left it herself. When she wakes up, it’s going to be as if nothing ever happened…"

There are tears in the mother’s eyes now and Aziraphale takes her hand. "You’re doing everything you can for your daughter. She knows how much you love her and she loves you, too."

"Thank you." She squeezes his hand, blinking her tears away. "I’ll leave you two alone now."

After she leaves, Aziraphale sits down next to Tracy and takes her warm, yet lifeless, hand.

"It’s okay for you to go," he whispers. "Whenever you’re ready. And don’t worry, people who commit suicide don’t go to hell. It’s not a sin, if that’s what keeps you here. Trust me, I know. I’m an angel, I’m not lying to you."

Luckily for him, nothing happens, Aziraphale admits to himself. Had Tracy died at this exact moment, he would be in a lot of trouble. Crowley, probably, too. And Jesse as well, though he doesn’t know anything about Aziraphale’s plan.

Jesse never sent that message announcing Aziraphale’s visit to Mrs Loach. Nor did Emily Woodrow. It was all Aziraphale’s work.

"Excuse me, dear, but I have to help Eugene," he tells the girl, and gets up again. "He was your best friend, wasn’t he? Let’s see if we’ll find something that proves his innocence."

First, he examines the wastebasket in Tracy’s room, because Eugene told him he burned her suicide note there. Unfortunately there isn’t a flake of ashes Aziraphale can use as evidence. Mrs Loach must have cleaned it. There’s nothing around it, either. Not under the carpet or behind the baseboards, Aziraphale checks there, too.

In his mind he goes through everything Eugene has told him and, luckily for the boy, the angel has eidetic memory: Tracy wrote the note sitting on the bed and crying. Then Eugene had snatched it away from her to burn it and stop the whole thing from happening.

So where is the notebook now? Aziraphale checks the desk but it isn’t there, nor in its two drawers. He lifts every book and other things that sit there, neatly dusted by Tracy’s mother but untouched, nevertheless.

There’s nothing on the bookshelf, it didn’t slip behind or underneath it, but as Aziraphale examines the lowest shelf, he sees something from the corner of his eye and there it is! Hidden under the bed, Aziraphale picks it up. There’s blood on the lower corner, but not much.

The angel takes a closer look, moving his fingertips over the blank piece of paper and when he can feel the words, he lets a dark substance fall from his palm onto the sheet and it reveals the words written on the ripped out page above.

It’s the note Eugene Root was talking about. The one that shows that he has nothing to do with what happened to Tracy. Or at least that he didn’t kill her.

Aziraphale drops it to the floor next to the bed and calls for Mrs Loach.

He was about to write down an inspiring quote from the Bible for Tracy, when his pencil slipped out his fingers and rolled under the bed and look what he had found! It looks important, because, God forgive him, he accidentally had a glance at it.

While Mrs Loach sobs that ‘He didn’t do it’ and ‘We have to get rid of it!’ Aziraphale manages to gently convince her that calling the Sheriff might be wiser than forgetting about the letter all together. Because the poor boy needs to know that Annville knows that he didn’t kill Tracy. That his story was true and he even tried to talk himself out of it, which sadly resulted in the exact opposite, but Eugene Root isn’t a killer, which is most important.

When Sheriff Root and his deputy finally arrive, there is more sobbing and crying and Aziraphale slips out of the house unnoticed.

Crowley parks his Bentley right at the main entrance to QM&P. He isn’t very sure if the place really smells like death or if he’s the only one smelling it because he’s a demon. It’s not very important, though he’s aware that hell would love everything about the place: the grayness, the smell of blood, death and fear that you smell perfectly clearly as a celestial being. As a random human, it would probably just creep you out.

Ah, Mr. Quincannon does not expect him? Perhaps not, but Crowley walks in anyway. So the assistant might as well save his breath.

Quincannon sits with his back turned to the door and doesn’t hear him coming in. He’s listening to horrible sounds, like cries of tormented souls, just pure fear and panic. They are scared to death or actually dying. Crowley can make out the steady sound of the bolt pistol after a moment of listening in and he scowls in disgust.

He was never a fan of plain cruelty or torture. Sure, they are a part of hell, but there are also dozens of other demons who can get that done. Those demons never understood that Crowley liked and still likes it more subtle.

It’s the little things to him, like a disturbed mobile phone connection when you need it the most, a traffic jam on your way from work, no free seats when you go by public transportation. Pretty much everything that gets you into bad mood and makes you snap at your significant others or kids or other people who have nothing to do with your bad day.

Crowley’s damn good at that. He’d call himself a master of annoyance and frustration. What he hates, though, is animal cruelty. They only provide for you, so there’s no reason to hurt them.

"There’s a special place in hell for people who enjoy animals in pain," Crowley tells Quincannon, leaning against his desk, filled with various documents and blueprints.

Crowley looks at the papers about the church, that Quincannon wants for pasture. He wants more cows, which is unnecessary, because too many cow farts are bad for the environment and Crowley didn’t stop the apocalypse for more cow shit, thank you very much.

Crowley still wants to meet the angel for lunch or walk with him through the park. And he doubts Aziraphale would find an dystopian and post-apocalyptic earth very romantic.

Sure, if humans keep living like they live right now, the dystopian look will happen, sooner rather than later, but until then, there’s a lot of sushi to be eaten, a lot of wine to be drunk and a lot of nights to be spent together.

Quincannon flinches slightly and mutes the sound. Then he slowly turns around to face Crowley. "Who are you to come to me unannounced and talk about my business?" He looks the demon up and down. "Are you a Custer? You share the same taste in clothes for sure…" The man’s arrogant and condescending way of speaking makes Crowley hate him even more. "I won the church in a bet and I don’t believe in God nor hell, so..."

"… so I have news for you." Crowley cuts him off, speaking slowly, unimpressed, as he takes his sunglasses off. "Hell is real and already waiting for you."

Quincannon just shrugs. "And I will suffer and be tormented by devils with their forks unless I change my ways and become a good Samaritan?" He sighs theatrically. "Not buying it, but now I really want to tear that church down ASAP."

"Will you still not care when I drag your daughter down and let her relive her worst, most painful and frightening moments of her innocent life?" Crowley asks, looking Quincannon in the eye.

"How dare you?!" the man says through gritted teeth. "You know nothing about my daughter!"

"I’ll tell her it’s her daddy’s fault that she’s reliving the freak accident that killed her over and over, and she always dies last and in a lot of pain…" Crowley sits down on a corner of the desk.

"It’s not possible! You can’t keep someone in hell who doesn’t belong there!" Quincannon says triumphantly.

"Of course I can!" Crowley barks with laughter in his face. "I made the first human sin. Without me there wouldn’t be any hell!"

He lets Quincannon see his real appearance, not the human form he has chosen on Earth. The man’s eyes go wide. He opens his mouth in a soundless scream and his face turns ghostly pale.

"Hands off the church and the preacher and your daughter might spend eternity in peace." Crowley hops off the desk and sets all the documents on it on fire with a quick snap of his fingers. "And treat the cattle better."

Quincannon watches him, clutching the armrests of his chair with white knuckles.

The assistant hurries in with a shocked scream, as Crowley leaves the office, adjusting his glasses.

He can still smell the burning papers when he’s at his car, but even clearer he smells Quincannon’s fear.

That was fun.

Crowley picks up Aziraphale on his way back from the Loaches, who insists on having a cup of hot chocolate right now. So they visit the local diner called Flavor Station, slide into the nook that offers most privacy and sip on their beverages.

"Seems like we both had a very productive day," Aziraphale sums it up happily, letting his cup clink against Crowley’s. "But there’s one thing I have to talk to you about."

"What is it, angel?" Crowley asks with an amused smile.

"I want to help Cassidy," Aziraphale begins, and then he tells Crowley about the talk he and the vampire have had while Aziraphale was fixing the church’s air conditioning.

"I can make him more demonic," Crowley suggests and Aziraphale sighs. "That’s not what we want..."

"I guess not…" Now Crowley sighs, too. He hates seeing the angel disappointed, though he would never admit it. "Beelzebub punishes demons by removing their powers, but nobody’s ever survived that. Sorry, angel."

"Don’t be, my dear." Aziraphale squeezes his hand and Crowley squeezes back, only a tiny little bit. "What would happen if we worked together?"

"Worst case, we could literally rip him apart," Aziraphale says gloomily, taking a big gulp of his chocolate.

"Probably," Crowley agrees. "But then again, what does he have to lose?"

They come up with a plan, eventually, and when they return to the church, they almost run into Cassidy, smoking on the patio.

"I’m quite sure we can do something for you," Aziraphale says, adjusting his bow tie, unnecessarily, once he gets out of the car. "We might have found a way to turn you human again."

"You did?" Cassidy gets up quickly, and puts out his cigarette at the wall. "What are you waiting for?" He beams at them. "Lets do this!"

When Aziraphale and Crowley don’t share his excitement, he adds: "What? Does it makes me ancient instantly? Anything else? Worse?"

"Should it work, you’d be perfectly human again and age normally from now on," Aziraphale tells him cautiously.

"But the odds are higher that you won’t survive the procedure." Crowley notices, much to his own surprise, that he’s genuinely sorry about this possibility.

"Oh." Cassidy rubs his neck, thinking for a moment. "How are my chances to make it, what do you think?"

At that, Aziraphale shrugs, looking miserable. "We don’t know. We’ve never turned anyone back before."

"We really want to give it a try, though," Crowley says encouragingly, and when Cassidy doesn’t answer, he adds: "Honestly, what do you have to lose? Watching Jesse growing old and another century or two of solitude and self pity?"

Aziraphale elbows him to stop talking, but the demon isn’t done yet. "Both aren’t very happy alternatives for you, are they, Cass? I know what I would do if I were you."

To be fair, Crowley just wants some entertainment, something to do. Making a vampire human again, now, that sounds quite entertaining and new. Usually it’s the other way around and he’s done it so many times, it bores him to tears.

"You’re right," Cassidy agrees, still in thought. "But in case it won’t work and I die, I have to do one thing." He continues while the three of them walk inside the house. "A stupid thing, so it won’t matter if I die. Should I survive, I’ll deal with the consequences later."

Jesse almost runs into them, coming out of the office in a hurry, with a Bible in his hand.

"Yo, Padre, can I talk to you for a moment?" Cassidy stops him, gripping his arm.

"I’m busy, Cass…" Jesse says, but doesn’t pushes him out of his way. "Tulip’s gonna be here to pick me up any minute."

"Oh." Cassidy lets go of Jesse’s arm as if he’s been burned. "Like for a date?"

Jesse snorts at that and shakes his head. "Have you had whatever the air conditioning is oozing, again?"

"The air conditioning isn’t oozing anything anymore," Aziraphale assures him, with a hint of indignation.

"I’m gonna do something really stupid or really awesome." Cassidy takes a deep breath.

"Guys?" Jesse addresses Aziraphale and Crowley, confused, but they just shrug.

"And because I don’t know what’s gonna happen, I have to do another thing that can be the best or the dumbest thing I ever did." With that, Cassidy leans in and kisses him.

It’s soft and sweet, just a simple kiss on his lips and completely not how Jesse expected it to be. He’s imagined them kissing countless times, but in his imagination it always started with them both drunk and in the church and it definitely didn’t stop at kissing.

When Cassidy slowly pulls away, Jesse pulls him back in and deepens the kiss a little, until the honking of a car horn startles them, interrupting.

"I have to go, Cass…" Jesse lets go of the vampire in what Cassidy imagines to be a reluctant way. "Sorry…" The preacher rubs his face and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what just happened, before hurrying out.

"See ya, mate," Cassidy says quietly, more to himself than to Jesse. "Okay, I’m ready, let’s do it, then," he tells Crowley and Aziraphale. "Shall we go to the attic?"

Aziraphale and Crowley look at each other and because the angel looks touched by the moment they just witnessed, Crowley says: "I think here should be fine."

"And it’s easier to get rid of a body here," Cassidy adds as they make it to living room. "Carrying me down the stairs would be too much of a hassle." He knows he’s right when nobody objects. "What’s next?"

Aziraphale clears his throat and opens his arms. "Give me a hug and don’t let go, no matter what."

The vampire looks at him, then at Crowley, then at the angel again and hugs him.

It’s been a while since someone, anyone, has hugged Cassidy. Just like this, without expecting anything in return. Aziraphale wraps his arms around him and Cassidy can’t help but do the same.

"It’s okay, nothing’s gonna happen yet, relax," the angel says soothingly, petting his hair a little.

It reminds Cassidy of his mother’s and grandmother’s hugs. He always felt safe, protected and loved with each of their hugs, just as he feels right now. It’s been a while since he’s thought of his family, too, and Aziraphale’s hug brings it all back in a rush. Cassidy closes his eyes when he feels the prickling of tears and fights against the thought of letting go, before he starts crying like a child and holding on to keep the feeling of home just a little bit longer.

"It’s okay, let it all out," the angel mumbles and Cassidy realizes that Aziraphale’s shoulder is wet from his tears (and probably more because he’s sniffling). "Now comes the hardest part," Aziraphale says calmly. "Hold onto me and I’ll do everything I can to get you through this."

His arms tighten even more around Cassidy, who clutches at Aziraphale’s vest as hard as he can. Then he feels something curling around his ankles: a huge snake is moving up and wrapping itself tightly around Cassidy.

If feels as if his ribs are about to crack at any moment. Actually, he can feel one or two of them breaking as panic kicks in and he bursts into cold sweat. Cassidy’s ears are ringing, so he can’t really hear what Aziraphale’s saying, but it probably doesn’t matter.

The snake seems neverending, its grip around Cassidy’s lungs
is like barbed wire and tight steel rings and Cassidy shouldn’t have problems breathing, since he doesn’t need air, but he struggles against it anyway and the angel won’t let him go.

Cassidy feels the snake’s smooth skin and oddly neutral body tighten against his throat, feels its head brushing past his ear, before it sinks its fangs into Cassidy’s neck. It feels hotter than when sun burns him and then everything blacks out.

Cassidy’s unconscious, when a seizure rips through him. Luckily, Aziraphale is strong enough to keep him upright, because Cassidy’s knees give in. Crowley’s fangs stay buried deep in Cassidy’s neck until another seizure passes. Only then does Crowley releases him.

"That was horrible," Aziraphale says weakly, watching Crowley’s snake-form stretch out. "Do you think it worked?" Crowley’s scales look a sickly shade of green and grey and the usual vibrant yellow of his eyes are dull black holes now. "Are you okay?"

"I can’t even sssssay, if he sssssurvivessssss," Crowley hisses, while Aziraphale picks Cassidy up and carries him to the couch.

"Rest as much as you need to, but please don’t forget to breathe on your own," Aziraphale tells the unresponsive Cassidy, touching his throat and his chest gently. "That’s all I can do."

"Come outsssside with me, angel." Crowley slithers to the door and Aziraphale follows him out, where Crowley wiggles out of the pallid and tainted serpent skin and sets it on fire.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Aziraphale asks again, while Crowley produces his sunglasses and adjusts them to cover his still blackish eyes.

"I’m perfectly fine." He watches the skin burn in a blaze of yellow flame.

"I’m glad." Aziraphale is suddenly next to him, intertwining his fingers with Crowley’s, and Crowley lets him.

It’s late at night when Jesse comes back home. He looks pale and tired as he enters the kitchen through the back door.

"Hello, Jesse," Aziraphale greets him, coming in at the same moment. "You were gone for a long time, was there an emergency?"

"Actually, yes." Jesse nods, leaning against the kitchen table. "Tracy Loach just died."

"Ah. I see." Aziraphale takes a seat opposite Jesse.

"Her mother couldn’t thank me enough for having sent this very polite British gentleman over last night," the preacher says, with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, a very kind woman," Aziraphale remembers. "I’m glad I could be of help. For her, the young lady and young Mr. Root." And with that he tells Jesse about what he did for Tracy and Eugene last night.

"Just to set it all straight." Jesse runs his hands through his hair in disbelief. "You did not fake that letter, you just found it?"

"I wouldn’t fake an important document in such serious circumstances," Aziraphale insists. "I found out the truth, because that’s what angels do. Well, among other things. And unfortunately not all angels. I could tell you stories about Gabriel or Michael…" The angel shakes his head with disapproval.

"So, it’s all real?" Jesse gets his thoughts back on track of the actual conversation. "Or did you get a little bit creative to make Eugene’s life easier?"

"I like him very much, but I can assure you that I did nothing more than find the letter," Aziraphale says firmly. "He is innocent, but feels guilty about not being able to stop Ms. Loach in time."

"Poor Eugene." Jesse sighs. "The whole town thinks he did it. I should have asked him using Genesis! I thought the burned suicide note was something he made up…" The preacher mumbles more to himself, before speaking to the angel again. "Thank you, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale nods. "Now, let’s hope that everything ends up well for Cassidy, too."

"What did he do this time?" Jesse hopes Aziraphale isn’t talking about the kiss. He hopes no one will mention that kiss ever again. Because of course Cassidy kissed him to mess with him. Then Jesse remembers the vampire’s words about doing something very stupid. "He got arrested again?"

"No." Aziraphale shakes his head. "He asked us to turn him human and…"

"What?" Alarmed, Jesse interrupts him, standing up. "Where is he?"

The preacher hurries out of the kitchen and wants to go up the stairs, but Aziraphale’s hand on his shoulder stops him.

"We came up with a way but we’re not sure he’ll survive," the angel explains, leading the preacher to the living room.

And there he is. Cassidy’s laying on the sofa: pale faced and eyes closed, he looks pretty lifeless to Jesse.

"Cass? Cass!" The preacher is instantly by his side, and next to Crowley, who’s standing over him.

"Not dead, yet," the demon announces. "Also not a permanent vampire, which I guess could be also called a success." He touches Jesse’s shoulder for a brief moment. "And he’s still breathing on his own, that’s also not too bad."

"Hey." Jesse sits down next to Cassidy on the edge of the sofa. "Hey, Cass, wake up, okay?" When there’s no response from Cassidy, he tries again. "Come on, Cassidy, open your eyes. You’re scaring me here."

It’s true. He can barely see Cassidy’s chest heaving, which really freaks him out. The thought that this random skinny Irish guy who crashed into his life only a few weeks ago and instantly declared himself Jesse’s best mate - who believed in him no matter what - that he could lose this guy, just like that, and never get drunk with him again or never have to listen to his ridiculous theories about all kind of things again… Losing him feels unbearable to Jesse.

"WAKE UP!" he commands Cassidy, using Genesis, but still nothing happens. "What did you do to him?" the preacher demands from Crowley and Aziraphale. "I made Tracy Loach open her eyes and she had blown half of her brains out! Why doesn’t it work on Cassidy?" Jesse sounds angry and desperate, but he doesn’t care.

"Our powers combined are stronger than Genesis’." Crowley shrugs, and Aziraphale explains to Jesse exactly what they did.

Jesse listens with a frown, and then covers his face with his hands. He lets out a long and shaky breath. "What can we do?"

"Nothing," Aziraphale admits. "It’s a good sign that he’s still breathing and didn’t immediately turn his natural age, or into the same thing that attacked him and made him a vampire."

"I hate just sitting and waiting and doing nothing," the preacher says, frustrated. He looks at Cassidy again, rubs his tired face and kisses Cassidy’s lips. "Cassidy?" But Cassidy’s eyes are still closed and he doesn’t move. "It was worth a try," Jesse mumbles to no one in particular.

His ears turn red (again) and he suddenly feels ridiculous for giving in to such a childish impulse. But when vampires are real and angels and demons too, can’t fairy tales hold a pinch of truth as well?

"Why would he want to become human again, anyway?" Jesse addresses Crowley and Aziraphale again. "I mean, it sounded like being a vampire lost its perks after so many decades, but…"

"You know why," Crowley says and the preacher looks away and shakes his head.

"That was so unnecessary," he whispers, running his fingers over Cassidy’s. "But it doesn’t matter as long as he wakes up again."

Jesse looks at Aziraphale and Crowley again, and the angel looks pretty much as miserable as Jesse feels. Hell, even Crowley doesn’t seem happy with this situation.

"Go and get some rest, Jesse. You look awfully tired," Aziraphale tells him, touching his shoulder. "I don’t need sleep, I’ll stay here with Cassidy and I’ll get you as soon as he wakes up."

The preacher shakes his head again. "Thank you, but I’ll stay." He gets himself a chair to sit more comfortably beside the sofa and takes Cassidy’s hand in his own. "I’m not going anywhere, Cass. Whenever you feel like waking up, I’m right here."

Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand and they leave wordlessly to let Jesse have some rest and privacy.

"What do you think?" Aziraphale asks, as soon as they’re out of ear shot. "Is he worrying and sitting there alone next to a dead man?"

"Don’t make me be the voice of optimism here, Aziraphale." The demon scowls, intertwining their fingers. "Whatever Cassidy is now, he’s not a corpse yet."

"I just wish the results of our experiment would be immediately visible." Aziraphale sighs. "While we were at it, I had a really good feeling and was filled with hope, but now? The longer it takes the more anxious I become."

"Can I tempt you with a nightly cruise around town?" Crowley asks, pulling Aziraphale closer, almost as if he wanted to kiss the knuckles of his hand. "You may even pet some cows while I tell you about what I did today."

Before they leave the house, the angel insists on checking on Cassidy one more time. Because his condition is still the same and seems to be stable, Aziraphale tells Jesse to use Genesis and call for them, should anything change.

"… want me to talk to you all day, I will." Crowley and Aziraphale hear the preacher’s voice when they come back early in the morning. "I can also make the whole hole of a town pray for you. If that’s what wakes you up."

"He won’t wake up." Crowley is surprised when the angel doesn’t objects instantly. "I tell you what, angel, we go in there, and you distract the preacher long enough so I can end this bad parody of ‘Sleeping Beauty’."

"You will not kill this poor lad!" This time Aziraphale does object. "All he wanted was a chance to die as a human, so we’ll at least give him that!"

He’s quite appalled, so Crowley just sighs theatrically and motions Aziraphale to move on, then. The angel does, but he stops in the door frame to the living room. Jesse’s sitting in an armchair now, his feet are propped on the chair he sat in before. The preacher must have slept there.

"Wake up, Cassidy, and I’ll listen to all the things that leave your mind unfiltered, without complaint." Jesse’s voice is still heavy from sleep. "I’ll do anything, just open your eyes." He sighs, covering Cassidy’s hand with his own. "Please, Cass, please…" And then he feels something brush against his palm. "His fingers twitched!" the preacher says eventually, as if he isn’t sure if it really happens or if he’s imagining things.

"Wonderful!" Aziraphale exclaims, hurrying closer.

"Another seizure?" Crowley wonders at the same time, following him.

For a second, Jesse wants to ask the demon what he means by ‘Another seizure’ but Cassidy’s random sign of life makes Jesse want to keep talking to him more. "Just open your eyes, Cass, come on."

"Jess…" It’s barely a whisper, but the preacher hears it anyway.

"Yeah, it’s me!" he says right away. "Are you okay?" He intertwines his fingers with Cassidy’s, who makes a sound that could be taken for an ‘I don’t know’.

"...m I dead?" Cassidy mumbles, squeezing Jesse’s fingers ever so lightly.

"No!" Jesse assures him immediately. "You’re not!"

"You sure?" Cassidy moves his fingers against Jesse’s. "Something’s going on, then…"

"What do you mean?" the preacher asks, exchanging worried glances with Aziraphale.

"Why is it so dark?" Cassidy wants to know. "I can’t see shit."

Jesse has to smile at that. "Just open your eyes."

Cassidy squints before slowly opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is Jesse Custer’s face. "Hey, Padre." He tries to give the preacher a smile and just hopes it comes out only half crooked. "You look bloody awful," he adds, because it’s true. "Pale as a ghost."

"Probably because you scared me a little," Jesse admits, and now a little smile sneaks onto his face, too.

"Don’t worry, darling, I’m okay," Cassidy says happily. "A glass of water would be great, though."

"Oh, shit, of course!" Jesse jumps to his feet, to get him a drink and props Cassidy’s head up, while he’s drinking.

"Better." Cassidy nods after a few gulps. "So, what now? Would you fancy a shag or want to just hold hands?"

He gets a laugh from Jesse at that. "I’m fine with holding hands for now."

At the same time Aziraphale let’s out a flustered "Oh dear!" before adding: "I’m very glad you’re awake, Cassidy!"

"Hey, guys." Cassidy seems to have noticed Aziraphale and Crowley standing there just now.

"How do you feel, Cassidy?" Crowley wants to know. "Any urges to attack people for no reason?"

"Nah." Cassidy shakes his head. "A bit weird, but not in an evil way."

"Weird is your default mode, so how would you even know?" Jesse asks with a grin.

"That’s true, love, that’s true," Cassidy agrees. "I guess the weird feeling could come from the sunshine on me arms, without setting me on fire…" He sounds a little surprised and in awe of the fact.

"Holy shit, Cass!" Jesse grabs his jacket, that he had taken off earlier, to throw it over Cassidy, who still isn’t on fire.

"Oh wow, I guess I’m a real boy now…" he says before sitting up. "It definitely feels weird but in a good way." Cassidy stands up and slowly walks over to Crowley and Aziraphale and hugs them both. "Thank you both." he whispers. "Aren’t you in trouble now for having done something good?" he asks Crowley with a grin.

"Oh, it’s not his first time," Aziraphale answers fondly, while Crowley says: "We’ll see if that’s really something good."

He’s pretty sure human Cassidy will piss off a lot of people, especially those bible crazy vampire hunters that are still after him.

"It worked!" Aziraphale repeats excitedly once he and Crowley are alone.

He throws his arms around Crowley’s neck and they stumble a little, closing the door to their room.

"Well done, angel," Crowley says softly. "As far as I can judge, that is…"

"It wasn’t my achievement alone." Aziraphale takes the sunglasses off Crowley and puts them into the demon’s back pocket, so he can look into Crowley’s eyes. "You did the most important part."

"Biting someone again was fun." The demon shrugs it off as no big deal.

"I know, dear." Aziraphale strokes his cheek gently. "Do you think they’ll finally talk about their feelings for each other?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Crowley asks back. "You’re the expert with feelings."

Aziraphale just ‘hmmm’s at that, looking aside, and suddenly Crowley’s not so sure if he wants to know what’s on the angel’s mind.

"Their kiss…" Aziraphale begins eventually.

"I know!" Crowley says with disgust.

"I didn’t expect so much softness from them," the angel continues, ignoring Crowley’s tone of voice completely, before he looks at him again. "I would really love to try."

"Try?" Crowley repeats, confused, watching Aziraphale’s hopeful face. "Try what?"

"Kissing." Aziraphale looks down again, before he says in a rush. "We never actually got to that, you know? At least not the way they did… I mean, do you remember the moment in that former convent? You seemed to enjoy it and if the ex-nun didn’t interrupt us, who knows..."

The angel is babbling and Crowley could kiss him for that alone.

"You mean, this situation?" he asks quickly, pushing Aziraphale up against the wall.

Aziraphale nods and his eyes go straight to Crowley’s lips.

"You bet I remember," Crowley says and then kisses Aziraphale.

He was going for aggressive and passionate, but it came out soft and innocent at first. Just a brush of lips against lips, but it felt good, so they did it again.

"Do you mind if I try something?" Aziraphale asks, a little out of breath.

That’s new, too. The breathlessness. Usually they don’t bother too much with the functions of the human body. As celestial beings, they can make its deficiencies go away as quickly as may fit, but this? They didn’t think that kissing would take their breath away.

"What would you like to try?" Crowley wants to know and Aziraphale blushes a little.

"It may sound a tiny bit disgusting, but…" He pulls Crowley in for another kiss and his tongue touches Crowley’s tongue, and the demon pushes him even harder against the wall, to get as close as possible.

"That really was something, angel," Crowley says in awe, looking at Aziraphale; the pupils blown, the cheeks reddened and he’s a little out of breath. They both are, actually, which is unusual and delightful at the same time.

The demon goes in for a full blown kiss, this time - tongue, passion, grabbing each other and not letting go – they are at it.

"I’m glad you enjoy it." Aziraphale’s clearly happy with himself and Crowley’s enthusiasm, because the demon looks at him like he could kiss him all night. And that’s exactly what they do.

The next day is a Sunday. While Cassidy is resting from the procedure of becoming human again, and Aziraphale and Crowley spend a lot of time discovering the joy of kissing, Jesse has enough time to write a sermon about miraculous turns of events and second chances and that those chances shouldn’t be tossed away carelessly, because they usually mean that God wants to tell you something.

To the people of Annville it’s crystal clear that it’s about Eugene Root’s innocence and the preacher, who is well aware that the poor faceless boy had been bullied ever since the incident with Tracy Loach.

Now everyone is more than willing to forgive him and expects the same forgiveness from Eugene as well.

Judging by the boy’s red cheeks and the happy look in his eyes, he’s more than ready to leave the past behind and move on with new hopes and new dreams and maybe even with new friends.

That’s also an important part of the sermon: friendship.

It’s good and important to care for and work on old friendships, yet still welcome new people in ones life. Friendship is a form of love and friends are family one has to choose for oneself, so choose wisely.

"Good boy," Aziraphale whispers happily, standing in the back of the church, listening to the sermon.

After the service, Sheriff Root asks if they can use the church’s grounds for an impromptu party, right there and then, since most Annvillers are already there anyway.

Jesse agrees, of course, so the Sheriff makes a brief announcement, and people cheer and are more than willing to have a good time.

With Cassidy and Tulip’s help, Jesse gets the old grill from the attic. Emily objects that the old thing is rusty and probably a hazard for everyone’s health, but it turns out to be perfectly fine. Only Jesse knows that the grill’s sudden good look has something to do with Aziraphale standing next to it for just a moment.

The major offers free drinks, though it’s just tap water put into bottles for the sake of easier transportation. He also comes back with meat as a donation from Quincannon’s Meat & Power. Mr. Quincannon himself doesn’t want to participate in the get-together.

Emily wants to know how many cows have been donated, because it’s enough for everyone who wants some. The mayor can’t tell her exactly – he’s too distracted trying to figure out where the beer has suddenly appeared from. He even asks the preacher’s guest - not Cassidy, the other one wearing black, the one who hadn’t attended the service earlier - but that guy just shrugs wordlessly.

"Are you enjoying the party, my dear?" Aziraphale leans into the demon a little.

"I’m enjoying the company more, but at least I’m entertained," Crowley admits with another shrug. "Do you want to bet on which one of these hillbillies gets drunk first and drops their trousers?"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale tries to sound appalled but the chuckle at the end ruins it a little. "The mayor, I’d say. If I were interested in such a bet, that is."

"I say the creepy bus driver." Crowley points at the man whom he had seen steering the school bus before and who now stares at the plastic tub filled with bottles of beverages and crushed ice in horror.

"Mr. Aziraphale, sir?" Eugene Root interrupts their banter, approaching them.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Root!" Aziraphale smiles at him. "Are you having fun?"

The boy with the disfigured face nods enthusiastically. "It’s all because of you."

"I beg your pardon?" the angel asks, confused.

"Dad told me, it was you who discovered the block that proved that it wasn’t me," Eugene says and Crowley’s glad to be wearing his sun-glasses that allow him to stare at this poor creature’s lack of a face with morbid fascination. "So thank you." the teenager extends his hand.

"But you’re very welcome, young man!" Aziraphale beams at him and shakes his hand. "Oh, and Eugene?" He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "From now on, everyone who meets you will see your inner beauty first."

"Thank you," Eugene says again.

As if on cue, a group of teenagers calls his name and waves him over.

"Well, well, Aziraphale, I see what you did there," Crowley teases. "and I’m very proud of you."

"I may have agreed not to heal him, but luckily I found a way to make it a little bit easier for him anyway," the angel says, content. "Who’s next?"

"Easy, Jesus, give yourself a break." Crowley smirks, before making a beeline to get away from Eugene’s parents, who are walking towards Aziraphale. He isn’t in the mood for happy tears and emotional parents.

Instead he strolls over to Jesse and sits down next to him on the church’s steps.

"Aziraphale told me how much he enjoyed your sermon," Crowley says, adjusting his sunglasses.

"He did?" Jesse asks, surprised. "I never thought the two of you would talk about sermons."

"He talks," Crowley’s corrects. "I listen. And watch. I’m fully informed on what’s going on around me, you know?" Here, he takes a little pause. More for the effect than for Jesse to actually say something. But the preacher stays silent. "Why don’t you simply go over and tell him?" the demon asks, nodding shortly in Cassidy’s direction.

Cassidy is splayed out on a deck chair under a tree, which gives him some shadow, the Vietnamese hat pulled deep over his face, clearly enjoying the sunshine on his skin.

"I don’t know if it’s me or Genesis," Jesse says quietly, after a while. "A preacher and a vampire are the next best thing to an angel and a demon, I guess…"

"So you think Genesis wants to recreate their parents with you both." Crowley isn’t asking now. "How did it feel when you first saw us?" he continues after a moment.

"Genesis pushed me to you," Jesse remembers. "They felt home, but it wasn’t my feeling…"

"Do you feel the same way about him?" Crowley looks over to Cassidy again and the group of kids around him, who are eyeing his tattoos with curiosity.

The preacher has to think about it for a moment. "It feels different, but I’ve been feeling it for weeks now. Like when we just met, so how can I be sure?"

"Love at first sight," Crowley says softly. "Happens to the best of us. Or the worst," he adds quickly. "He’s human again, so there’s no chance to recreate Aziraphale and me - whatever you’ve felt since last night, it’s yours alone."

Jesse runs his hand through his hair and curses under his breath, watching Cassidy spray something all over himself. It could be bug spray or sunscreen or maybe just cold water, Jesse doesn’t know and doesn’t care. He’s far too distracted by the glistening drops of liquid all over Cassidy’s upper body.

Jesse hides his face in his hands for a moment. It’s not Genesis that makes him want to order everyone to go home, so he can straddle Cassidy on the chair and find out what the droplets on Cassidy’s skin will taste like on his tongue. Or if there’s something more behind Cassidy’s random kiss, the other day.

"I’ll go and see what the angel is getting himself into this time," Crowley says amused, getting up.

There are a few kids gathered around Aziraphale, who looks as if he’ll start doing some of his magic tricks any minute now.

The Annvillers slowly walk away from the churchyard when it starts getting dark. Everyone has a happy smile on their way home, chatting and laughing. Some are calling friends or family to pick them up, because they are too drunk to drive.

Jesse is proud of his church congregation for having this much responsibility left. Especially with an angel watching. He isn’t sure if Aziraphale’s opinion still has much value, considering his relationship with Crowley, but nevertheless, it’s a good thing having an angel on your side, the preacher muses. And probably a demon, too. Who’s been having an conversation with Tulip for a while now. And if someone has a hell of a temper and an devilish streak, it definitely is Tulip O’Hare.

Jesse wouldn’t be surprised if Tulip were negotiating a deal with Crowley to get her hands on Carlos. On one hand Jesse’s quite sure the demon isn’t active in the ‘buying souls for favors’ business anymore, but on the other hand, you just never know.

Emily’s kids are openly yawning at some point, after falling asleep standing up, so she bids them all a good night and offers Tulip a ride home, which Tulip accepts after the six of them clean up the mess the gathering left.

Before she leaves, she puts a record on Jesse’s dad’s old record player Jesse isn’t even sure it’s still working.

By the first chords of Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now Aziraphale stopped taking the grill apart and pretty much froze. As did Crowley. For a moment they just stared at each other in shock, as if expecting something bad to happen. When nothing did - of course, it’s just a song, albeit a great one - the expressions on their faces changed into relief.

Aziraphale shrugs and mumbles something under his breath, Crowley makes a throw-away gesture and everything is in its place. Actually, it’s for sure much cleaner than Jesse’s ever seen the church or the house, but he’s certainly not going to complain.

He and Cassidy are sitting in the kitchen and watching their guests dancing. Aziraphale and Crowley don’t care if their moves are matching the music, beat or melody.

Jesse’s pretty sure he saw Aziraphale’s way of dancing in an period drama about an European king that his father made him and Tulip watch when they were kids. Crowley’s dancing reminds him of how their teachers danced at a school event in elementary school: both of them look incredibly ridiculous but like they’re having a lot of fun, so Cassidy changes the music to Anarchy in the UK and joins them.

"C’mon, Padre, this song needs to be pogo’d to," Cassidy whines mockingly, so Jesse rolls his eyes, sighs dramatically and joins him. The song really has a pogo part and you just can’t pogo an angel and you just don’t know how it ends when you pogo a demon. So, yeah, it’s just him and Cassidy keeping the punk spirit alive, because Crowley and Aziraphale don’t change their dancing at all. Though Aziraphale covers his mouth in shock at the I wanna be anti-christ line, while Crowley laughs out loud.

By the end of the song, Jesse and Cassidy pretty much collapse against each other from exhaustion and laughter, breathing hard.

"Is that your way to tell me you’re going back to the UK?" Jesse wants to know, still out of breath.

"Nah, darling." Cassidy shakes his head against Jesse’s shoulder. "’m not leavin’. Just wanted to put this song on for our guests."

"Good." Jesse sounds content. "I would hate to see you leave."

"Good." Cassidy nods, moving a little away from Jesse so he can look in his eyes. Which reminds him of the kiss, a few days ago. The kiss they still haven’t talked about. He blushes and looks away. "Good," he says again, because there’s something in the way the preacher looks at him that makes Cassidy’s heart beat faster and his brain forget how to form new words.

"I guess it’s my turn to do something stupid now," Jesse whispers, while his thumb brushes the skin below Cassidy’s ear very lightly, barely there. "What was that about?" he wants to know, distracted by the way Cassidy licks his lips.

"Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you real bad, in case I died." Cassidy explains with shaky voice.

Jesse makes a dismissive sound, like the possibility of Cassidy’s death was unacceptable and a personal offense against him.

Then he pulls Cassidy closer and kisses him, soft and slow, just as Cassidy had the other day.

They dance through the whole house, except for the church itself. Aziraphale notices that the Quadrille suits all kinds of music, not just from the baroque era – even the shocking song about United Kingdom, though he was the only one dancing the Quadrille to it.

For a moment he thinks about teaching it, because not even Crowley can do it, but then decides against it. Teaching would probably quite ruin the joy of dancing. Besides, Jesse and Cassidy seem occupied with each other and Crowley looks content about everything and not like he’s hoping for a dance lesson.

"Tell me, my dear Crowley," he asks, when he decides that he needs a break from dancing, "are you responsible for this?" Aziraphale nods towards Cassidy and the preacher, both of them looking at each other like teenagers, wanting to kiss but not knowing how.

"Oh, you know, angel..." Crowley scowls the way he does when he’s done something good but doesn’t want to admit it openly. "I was just thinking, having a male preacher in love with a filthy-mouthed lad will piss off a lot of people…"

"But it will also make at least three people very happy." Aziraphale looks at him fondly.

Crowley hates that his heart beats a little faster at that, so he grunts dismissively as if he doesn’t know, and – most importantly – doesn’t care what Aziraphale is implying.

The angel sighs playfully, throws his arms around Crowley’s neck and kisses him. Right there and then and on the lips, for the whole world to see. Okay, the whole world would be a former vampire and a possessed preacher, right now, but still.

"Not in front of the kid," Crowley whispers, because some things have to stay private, if you ask him.

The otherwise so buttoned-up and insisting on his privacy angel just laughs and kisses him again. "I think it’s good for a child to see that their parents still love each other."

Crowley rolls his eyes good-naturally. "But you love everyone, angel!"

"Yes, that’s true!" Aziraphale confirms happily. "But I love you the most."

Crowley freezes for a second and then pulls Aziraphale closer by his vest. Now it’s him who kisses the angel with heat and passion and with all the goodness that is still within him. That he discovered because of Aziraphale, that made him feel unique.

When they part for a moment, Aziraphale smiles against the demon’s lips and they kiss again.

"I think we should continue this somewhere more private," Crowley says, and just like that they are in their room.

They can still hear the music coming faintly through the closed doors. Freddie Mercury is begging the love of his life not to leave him. Luckily, it’s not a Queen song, but one of his solo songs, crosses Crowley’s mind, before he kisses Aziraphale.

The angel says his name between the kisses and takes a step back after the fourth time.

"I don’t know about you," Aziraphale says breathlessly, intertwining his fingers with Crowley’s, "but I’m thinking about making an effort."

Crowley just stares at the angel’s lips, dark red from kissing, his rosy cheeks and his eyes that are even bluer than usual and pretty close to actually shining.

"What?" he asks, distracted, just staring at Aziraphale, who repeats: "I want to make an effort here," and then adds, "What about you?"

"I don’t know we’ll be able to get back into our human forms, once we turn bodiless again," Crowley says. "If not for Adam, you’d probably still share a body with that old hag."

"Mrs Tracy is a very kind woman," Aziraphale tells him, a little huffy. "Besides, I have something else in mind."

The demon just curiously raises an eyebrow, so Aziraphale clears his throat. "Since we already have human bodies, I’m thinking about doing it the human way," he says very quickly.

Too quickly, maybe, because Crowley gives him a weird look. Then he clears his throat, too. "You’ve got to be kidding me! The human way?" He nods to the closed door. "Do you actually know how humans do it?"

"Well, not in great detail, no," Aziraphale admits, blushing. "Yet I think I know enough."

"And they look ridiculous while at it! All the sweating and the weird facial expressions and the sounds they make…" Crowley counts off, because Aziraphale may have been living in his porn free bubble for millennia, but he, Crowley, has not.

He knows how humans are, when they have sex: selfish, disgusting and their brains short-circuit. Crowley isn’t sure Aziraphale is fully aware of what he’s trying to talk Crowley into or if he, Aziraphale, would be able to handle it.

"But what about love? I mean, yes, humans have sex for a lot of reasons and some of them are selfish or wrong, but I love you and I want to touch you and be touched by you." the angel says. "I think I’m okay with looking ridiculous while at it, because it’s just something between you and me."

Crowley fakes a sigh and rolls his eyes. "Fuck, angel, I’m in, then."

Cassidy moves his hands over Jesse’s sides as he deepens the kiss, and Jesse pulls him closer.

"Oh, thank God it wasn’t just a one time kiss because of extraordinary circumstances," Cassidy somehow manages to say, out of breath again. "Wait, it wasn’t just an once in a lifetime kiss, was it now?"

"I thought not," Jesse says, amused. "But when you prefer talking over kissing, I may change my mind."

"Hell, no!" Cassidy protests immediately. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this."

"For how long?" Jesse curls his fingers gently at the nape of Cassidy’s neck. "Tell me."

Cassidy looks down, before saying, "Right there and then at the bar. On the spot…"

The preacher curses under his breath and kisses Cassidy - hard and passionate this time – his hands slowly moving from Cassidy’s neck and down his back.

Cassidy’s fingers are toying with Jesse’s hair, and his other arm is around Jesse’s waist, holding them both close. So close, they’re practically rubbing against each other, slowly.

"What would you say to continuing this somewhere more privat?" Jesse breathes near Cassidy’s ear.

"The couch won’t make it, love," Cassidy whispers back.

"Our guests could be back any minute," Jesse reminds him with a smirk.

For a moment Cassidy looks as if he’s forgotten that they aren’t alone, before realization hits him, and he nods. "Yeah, right. The celestial Brits shouldn’t see my pasty arse."

"I hope that doesn’t go for me as well." Jesse squeezes Cassidy’s butt, and they kiss again, tripping slowly towards Jesse’s bedroom.

"Are you getting in trouble because of me?" Cassidy suddenly wants to know, while toeing off his sneakers.

"I’m always getting in trouble because of you." Jesse grins, getting out of his boots.

"You’re loving it," Cassidy says contently, before adding: "But will you get in trouble, because we’re not married? And, you know, fellas?"

Jesse holds back a laugh, because Cassidy seems to be pretty serious and bothered by this. "I already told you when we first met that I’m a lousy preacher," he reminds Cassidy. "I don’t care that we aren’t married and I think that love is love and that’s what I preach."

"Good." Cassidy looks calmer now. "Good."

"Forgive me, Father for I want to sin." Jesse winks at him and Cassidy makes the cross sign. "Oh yes."

Entering the bedroom, Jesse slips his hands beneath Cassidy’s bright orange pullover to push it up, so he can take it off of him. Standing there, in his white tank-top, Cassidy’s slightly shaky fingers pull at Jesse’s clerical collar, brushing his jaw. Jesse takes the collar out of Cassidy’s grip, because Cassidy looks uncomfortable to simply drop it to the floor.

When Jesse turns around to put it on the nightstand, Cassidy gets rid of his own tank top. Which turns out to be a great idea, because Jesse immediately starts kissing the tattooed E on his right shoulder, arms possessively wrapped around Cassidy’s waist, who’s gently stroking his neck.

"JessJessJess…" Cassidy manages to say when the preacher starts licking the letter on his shoulder. "You you you…"

"What is it, Cass?" Jesse stops his ministrations to look at him.

"You’re wearing way too many clothes." Cassidy’s hoarse voice makes him sound like he’s almost too distracted to talk in straight sentences.

"I’m pretty busy here," Jesse tells him kissing and licking his way from Cassidy’s shoulder up higher to the point where it meets his neck.

He sucks at the tender skin there and Cassidy mumbles something he doesn’t understand. "Was that Irish?"

Cassidy’s answer is a soft moan and a nod.

"It shouldn’t surprise me that you have a neck thing going on, being a former vampire and such…" Jesse grins, scraping his teeth gently against the side of Cassidy’s neck.

Cassidy makes a sound that’s more impatient now and manages to get his hands on Jesse’s black Sunday shirt. He quickly unbuttons it, almost completely ripping off the buttons, and pushes it off Jesse’s shoulders, dropping it to the floor.

The preacher’s undershirt follows immediately and then Cassidy’s slender fingers play with the waistband of Jesse’s pants. He presses his palm against Jesse’s crotch, before unzipping them and the preacher curses softly. Then, he gives Jesse’s butt a squeeze, before pushing his pants down.

The kiss that follows is passionate and dirty. They’re licking at each other’s tongues, nibbling at each other’s lips. When Jesse pulls Cassidy’s gray sweats down, Cassidy‘s boxers follow.

They both stumble, trying to step out of their pants and kicking them aside impatiently.

"We’ll get carpet burns." Jesse reminds them both that there is a bed, literally just a few steps away.

"I’d prefer beard burns," Cassidy manages to say between kisses, pulling Jesse’s shorts down.

Together they make it over to the bed and almost fall down on it.

"Be careful what you wish for." A few quick moves, and Jesse is on top of Cassidy, propping himself on his elbow, so he won’t crush him.

While kissing, the fingertips of Jesse’s free hand tracing Cassidy’s face gently, the tiny wrinkles around Cassidy’s closed eyes to his ear, then back across his cheek and jaw.

When it becomes necessary again, Jesse kisses his way over Cassidy’s lower lip to his chin. One of Cassidy’s hands is in Jesse’s hair, his other arm around his waist, as if to keep him close. But leaving doesn’t even cross Jesse’s mind.

He goes completely still for a moment to watch Cassidy underneath him: Cassidy’s eyes are dark blue, his cheeks flushed, his breathing quick and shallow.

Proinsias Cassidy may not be the most handsome man, but the vulnerability, the raw emotions written all over his face, combined with his heart that he always tries to hide, his loyalty and dark sense of humor, even the random tattoos all over his body and his usual grin, which isn’t there now, because Cassidy is too far gone, offering all that he has and is for Jesse to take – all this makes him the most irresistible and beautiful person to Jesse. So he moves his hips against Cassidy’s, eliciting a needy moan from the former vampire.

Cassidy moves a little and the new angle is even better, with Jesse’s thigh between Cassidy’s. Their kisses are lazy and slow now mixed with helpless moans and sighs of pleasure escaping from both of them.

When Jesse shifts to grab the condoms from the nightstand’s drawer, Cassidy sucks in a sharp breath and freezes for a moment.

"You okay, Cass?" Jesse wants to know, kneeling between his legs.

"Not for long, if you keep moving against me like that." It must be difficult for Cassidy to say such a long sentence, the way he’s breathing hard between the words.

"Sorry." Jesse’s lying and they both know it.

"Fuck it," he adds and takes Cassidy into his mouth.
Another Irish word escapes Cassidy‘s lips as he helplessly clenches the sheets.
 
Jesse makes an obscene sound before he exposes Cassidy‘s tip, licking it, and moving his fingers slowly up and down.
 
"Please, Jess, please…" The words Cassidy brings out are barely audible now and sound more like a plea.
 
The preacher almost has to stop for a moment when Cassidy opens his thighs wider for him, his hand in Jesse‘s hair. He then changes his mind and starts sucking, hard and dirty, and the sounds Cassidy makes when he comes, almost make him come, too.
 
Jesse swallows, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves a little, to lean it and look at Cassidy. Now it‘s Cassidy who lets his fingertips trace across Jesse‘s lips and face, before kissing him.
 
"You‘ve almost killed me again." Cassidy strokes Jesse‘s neck oh so slightly.
 
"Luckily you‘re still here," the preacher whispers, letting Cassidy push him onto his back and kiss him, until Jesse involuntarily moves his hips. With a few quick motions, Cassidy makes it stop, straddling him.
 
"It‘s my turn now." Curling his hand around Jesse, Cassidy spreads the pre-come over the tip with his thumb.
 
"Cass…" Jesse doesn‘t care if it sounds like a moan. He curses when Cassidy shifts a little, so he‘s now kneeling between Jesse‘s thighs.
 
They look at each other now, both breathing hard, and Cassidy thinks about coming up for another kiss, just to make Jesse wait a little bit longer. The way Jesse says "Cassidy" sounds like a prayer, making Cassidy forget everything. He closes his lips around Jesse, licking and sucking, until he feels him tense up, and doesn‘t stop until Jesse comes.
 
"Sorry," he whispers, watching Cassidy wipe his mouth, just as he did, only a few minutes earlier. "I usually last longer…"
 
"What are you sorry for, love?" Cassidy lays down next to him again. "I would have come without you doing anything, had I blown you first." He throws an arm across Jesse’s chest and they kiss again, before Cassidy presses his face into the spot between Jesse’s neck and shoulder. "I’m sorry about being so unimaginative and just copying you…"

"There’s nothing wrong with such a perfect copy." Jesse’s smile is audible in his voice. "It’s not like we’ll never have sex again.

"I’ll show you what you’ve gotten yourself into, when we wake up," Cassidy says sleepily, nibbling at the preacher’s neck. Jesse makes a sound of agreement, and pulls Cassidy even closer, putting one of his legs over Cassidy‘s.

And like this, they fall asleep.

Crowley’s fingers are fidgeting with the buttons of Aziraphale’s vest. It’s like they’re protected from being opened by a spell. That, or Crowley is suddenly a bit nervous.

"I want to undress you," he says, barely holding back a curse.

Aziraphale places his fingers over Crowley’s and the damn vest is unbuttoned in no time.

"Shouldn’t we get undressed in bed?" Aziraphale asks, taking off Crowley’s glasses and putting them aside.

"Since this is the 21st century and not the 18th, no." Crowley shakes his head to which Aziraphale nods, after thinking about the answer for a moment.

Then he quickly unbuttons Crowley’s black shirt, before his own follows. He pushes Crowley’s shirt off his shoulders and has to run his palms over them, brushing Crowley’s collarbones with his thumbs, tracing them along with his fingers, until he reaches the sternum.

"You’re hot." He sounds a little surprised.

"Well, thank you, angel," Crowley says, a little taken aback. "I try to stay in shape."

The angel blushes and Crowley wants to rip his shirt open to see how far the blush goes. "I mean, your skin feels hot."

"Ah." Crowley feels sheepish for a moment and misses having his sunglasses, to hide behind.

"No! God, no!" Aziraphale covers his mouth with his hands, realizing what he just said – or didn’t say and Crowley has it all wrong. "I didn’t expect your skin to be this hot. As in body temperature." The angel turn a darker shade of red now.

For a second the demon thinks of a fitting response, and comes up with a few, but he dismisses them all, kissing the angel instead.

"You’re hot, too, angel," Crowley’s almost growls, between sucking at the side of Aziraphale’s neck. "In all ways possible," he clarifies and the angel curls his fingers in Crowley’s neck, hissing slightly from pleasure and pain as the demon bites a little bit harder than necessary.

When Crowley’s hands reach Aziraphale’s trousers and open the zipper, Aziraphale buries his face in Crowley’s shoulder for a moment.

"Dear," he says quietly and a little out of breath. "My dear Crowley…"

"What?" the demon whispers close to his ear. "Do you want me to stop? Is it too fast for you?"

"I… I just think…" Aziraphale sounds distracted, but his hands are on Crowley’s shoulders, which Crowley takes for a good sign. "...we should take off our shoes and socks. It may look quite ridiculous the other way round."

"It probably would, indeed." Crowley’s so relieved, he doesn’t even try to hide it, and if Aziraphale recognizes it from his voice, he doesn’t mention it.

Holding onto each other for balance, they slip out of their shoes and socks, and while they are at it, they get rid of the trousers, too.

"Is that a promise?" Crowley smirks, looking at Aziraphale’s blue briefs with white clouds print all over. "Heaven?"

"Look who’s talking," Aziraphale counters, nodding at Crowley’s flame-printed trunks, before kissing him passionately; their fingers reach for each others waistbands, but don’t pull down yet.

"Let’s go to bed and find out, shall we?" Crowley suggests and Aziraphale nods, going backwards until his calves hit the bed.

"What now?" The angel climbs onto it, and before the demon can say anything, Aziraphale’s on his hands and knees, looking at Crowley over his shoulder.

"NO!" Crowley hisses hectically, his heart beating so fast, it’s a mystery how it doesn’t jump out of his chest yet. Instead, he pretty much jumps onto the bed and pulls Aziraphale down with him. "Hell, angel, what are you thinking?!"

"Was that wrong?" Aziraphale furrows his brows, as he and Crowley lay next to each other. "Isn’t that the most popular position for gay sex?"

"Not necessarily," the demon says after a moment of thinking. "I guess… I don’t know, I’m not an expert in most popular sex positions, but the point is: how do you know it is?"

"I saw it on the internet a few times," Aziraphale tells him. "Maybe…"

"You’re watching gay porn on the internet?" Crowley sounds like he can’t believe his ears, and when the angel just shrugs wordlessly, as if he wants to say: ‘That’s what the internet is for, after all, right?’ the demon pulls him in for another kiss.

On the bed they’re even closer than before. Without breaking the kiss, they start touching each other. Beginning at the neck, they let their palms and fingers wander over each others shoulders and arms, causing goosebumps and making the hair on their limbs stand.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale whispers close to the demon’s ear and his hot breath against Crowley’s skin is almost too much for him. "More…"

Crowley just nods and slowly slips his hand into Aziraphale’s underwear. He actually planned to take his sweet time and tease the angel a little, but he’s impatient now, too, so he removes the layer of fabric quickly.

When he touches Aziraphale’s naked butt for the first time, the angel makes a soft, surprised sound. He scoots even closer, pulling Crowley’s underwear down in the process.

They’ve always known they belonged together, since their very existence, but feeling each other’s lust and physical want, that’s new.

Aziraphale and Crowley are pressed together, kissing and moving against each other, touching everywhere, until that’s not enough, either.

"Can we stay like this?" Aziraphale runs his fingers through Crowley’s hair.

"Sure we can, angel, but if you want the whole sex experience, we’ll have to move." As if to accentuate his point, Crowley leans in to kiss Aziraphale and his thigh presses a bit harder to Aziraphale’s crotch, making the angel gasp.

"I want all of it," Aziraphale decides instantly and doesn’t even look uncomfortable about it – as he so often does when he wants something for himself.

"Turn around then, angel," Crowley suggests with a grin.

Aziraphale turns onto his belly. "Like this?" His voice is somewhat muffled by the pillow. "I don’t like this."

"I don’t like it either," Crowley agrees. "Turn onto your side, a bit."

"I don’t know." Aziraphale sighs, after changing his position. "I still can’t see you."

"But you can feel me, right?" Crowley scoots closer and wraps an arm over the angel, pulling him back in the process.
 
"Yes," Aziraphale confirms breathlessly, feeling the demon‘s breath on his neck. He intertwines his fingers with Crowley‘s and turns his head a little. "And now, I can even kiss you!"
 
The kiss starts slow, but turns more and more passionate and needy. The way their bodies react to the closeness, the touching, the kissing, feels even more intoxicating than a whole bottle of wine.
 
"Do you think we could try something?" Crowley whispers in Aziraphale‘s ear.
 
"Most definitely, yes!" the angel agrees at once. "What are you thinking of?"
 
"It‘s under your pillow," Crowley tells him and when Aziraphale slips his hand beneath the pillow, he finds a small tube he‘s pretty sure hadn‘t been there a minute before. "I‘m not sure we really need this, but since we have human bodies now, I guess it‘s better safe than sorry…" Crowley explains, like it‘s no big deal, taking the tube out of Aziraphale‘s hand. He may be a demon, but he‘d rather never do anything evil again in his life than hurt the angel.
 
Judging by the look Aziraphale‘s giving him, he already knows that. He pulls Crowley in for another kiss and grins, this bastard. "Well, why don‘t you put it to good use, then?" The angel‘s lips are touching Crowley‘s when he speaks.

"As you wish, angel..." Crowley says softly against Aziraphale’s lips, before slowly pushing into him.

"Now I feel you…" Aziraphale sounds surprised and in awe. It makes Crowley moan in a way that’s more like a low hiss and they kiss again, holding still to get used to this new sensation.

They start moving together, slow at first, and become faster, when Aziraphale grabs Crowley‘s thigh, pulling him even closer. Crowley starts stroking him, breathlessly whispering things that nobody would think he knows or even cares about.

Aziraphale comes first, Crowley‘s name a soft sound on his lips, causing the demon to follow him after a moment. They stay like this, still joined, gasping for air. Crowley places his hand over the heart of the angel, who intertwines their fingers. They take another deep breath, in and out, before they kiss again.

Jesse wakes up, feeling the sun on his face, and when he slowly opens his eyes, he sees Cassidy next to him. The early morning sun bathes Cassidy’s face and Jesse’s fully awake immediately, ready to throw himself across Cassidy’s sleeping form so he won’t catch fire.

Realizing that that’s not going to happen anytime soon, he falls onto his back, relaxed.

"Hey, Padre, did you just try to shield me from the sun?" Cassidy’s voice is raspy and heavy from sleep as he turns a little to look at Jesse.

"I didn’t want to wake you," Jesse says. "I guess you’re really human now, since it’s morning and you’re still not on fire…"

"We’re both no pumpkins, so I guess it’s permanent." Cassidy still sounds a little in awe.

"Wouldn’t that somehow make you Cinderella?" Jesse grins, and Cassidy does, too. "Whom the shoe fits…"

Jesse leans in to kiss him, and Cassidy tastes like sleep and Whiskey and cigarettes from last night. Maybe not the freshest kiss in the morning, but definitely and absolutely human. Cassidy’s arms outstretched on Jesse’s shoulders feel human, Cassidy’s body pressed against Jesse’s body feels warm and solid and so human, Jesse can’t get enough and gets lost in that feeling.

Crowley wakes up first. He stirs a little, not used to the feeling of having slept in the first place. When he stretches, his muscles feel a little bit sore. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand and when he turns to his side, Aziraphale is smiling at him.

"You’re smiling," the angel says, scooting closer, to touch Crowley’s cheek gently. His voice is raw from sleep, but he sounds very content. Maybe even at peace. "So, you don’t regret it?"

"Hell, no, angel!" Crowley says immediately, toying with Aziraphale’s soft curls. "Though I think we’re turning more and more human here, I enjoyed it. A lot."

"Good." Aziraphale nods. "Because I want to do it again." His fingers move over Crowley’s jaw. "Maybe not right now," he adds, before the demon can say anything. "Since the mortals seem to be up already…"

Crowley catches Aziraphale’s hand in his own. "I really don’t know how they manage to survive, I have to give them credit for that alone. And I mean all of them..."

"You mean, how they get up to do things other than stay in bed with their beloved and do this?" Aziraphale leans in. "Yes, this is the true mystery of humankind." He kisses the demon, who pulls him on top of himself. "And how we discovered it only now…"

When Crowley and Aziraphale get out of their room, Cassidy and the preacher are in the kitchen, half dressed. Jesse is on the phone, while Cassidy is kissing his shoulder.

"… e you later, Em. Thanks, and sorry again for forgetting about today’s meeting." Jesse disconnects the call and puts his phone away. Then he turns around, whispers Cassidy’s name and kisses the man. When he moves his attention to the side of Cassidy’s neck, Aziraphale and Crowley, standing still unnoticed at the door frame, clear their throats.

"Good morning, the two of you," Aziraphale interrupts them cheerily.

The two humans let go of each other but still stay close, greeting back.

"A long night?" Jesse adds with a smirk, and Aziraphale’s cheeks turn rosier, while Crowley adjust his sunglasses but can’t hide his grin.

"Congrats!" Cassidy exclaims. "Coffee?" He offers, as the old coffee machine starts rattling – a sound out of this world.

"Yes, please!" Aziraphale nods, before stepping closer to Jesse. He places his fingertips over the preacher’s heart. "How are you today, my dear?" Then he adds, "I’m sorry, Jesse, I just wanted to say hello to Genesis."

"No, that’s okay." Jesse shakes his head. "I totally understand."

"My question was directed to you as well." Aziraphale gives him a grateful smile. "So?"

"I… ah…" Jesse didn’t expect this question. "I’m good," he says, looking at Cassidy, who’s taking mugs out of the kitchen cabinet. "I’m really good."

"I owe you an answer to your question, when we arrived," the angel says suddenly. "Why Genesis has chosen you. I didn’t know, yet."

Under Aziraphale’s palm, Jesse’s heart speeds up nervously. "And now you do?"

Aziraphale nods. "You’re able to keep your dark and light sides in balance and that’s why they feel so comfortable with you."

"Okay. That’s good to know." The preacher takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Thank you. For giving us a chance…"

Meanwhile, Cassidy’s telling Crowley about having to find a favorite mug now that he’s human again. The demon is leaning against the counter with a content smile on his face. Watching the angel and the preacher, he’s probably not listening to a word of Cassidy’s babble.

"This coffee is an abomination!" Cassidy exclaims with heartfelt disgust. "Sorry, Aziraphale, you can’t drink that." He pours the contents of the mug he just nipped at down the drain. "You might use it to perform an exorcism, though."

"Are you saying you almost died because of something that could have been done with a cup of coffee?" Aziraphale laughs. "We’d better ask a professional demon here." He leans against the counter next to said demon, and pokes him teasingly with one finger. "Crowley, dearest, what do you think about the coffee?"

"It may work on zombies," Crowley says, sniffling at the pot.

"Wait, zombies are real?" Cassidy asks in awe. "Sure they are. There are vampires and angels and demons and their babies, so why not zombies?" He answers his own question immediately.

When Crowley nods in confirmation, Cassidy beams with excitement.

"Are we done here?" the demon suddenly asks, leaning into the angel. "Too much love and no angst is not good for my non-existent heart, y’know?"

"I know, I know." Aziraphale pats his shoulder with a contented sigh.

"Are you talking about leaving?" Jesse’s not entirely sure if that’s his question or Genesis’, but then again, it doesn’t really matter.

"Yes, it’s time," Crowley confirms.

"We’ll stay in touch, of course," Aziraphale adds.

"That’s good, because Jesse and Genesis both love to get themselves in trouble," Cassidy throws in. "It’s good to know that I can contact you, should shit ever hit the fan. Pardon my French."

"Anytime, my dear Proinsias, anytime," the angel assures at once and Jesse’s heart hurts a little, seeing Cassidy reacting to his first name – flustered and blushing and soft.

"Take good care of our child," Crowley says. "And of each other, too."

After a few long farewell hugs and a few quick ones, the celestials slowly get outside, accompanied by the preacher and the Irishman.

"Before we set off, I have one thing to do," Aziraphale says, getting into the Bentley.

"What is it, Aziraphale?" Crowley tries to sound annoyed or at least bored, but it’s still audible how much he enjoys the thought of a road trip.

"I really need a coffee and I want to say good-bye to Ms. Emily and Ms. O’Hare."

"Next stop, the Flavour Station, then." Crowley nods, starting the engine.

"That was crazy," Cassidy says, waving to Aziraphale. "Like meeting the parents." He and Jesse are standing by the porch, watching the car pull out of the yard.

"Or the good and the evil fairy godfathers." Jesse smirks. "Who gave me the best gift ever." He interlaces his fingers with Cassidy’s.

"You’re talking about me being human again, right, love?" Cassidy laughs happily, lifting their joined hands and kissing Jesse’s knuckles.

"Yeah, Cass, that’s exactly what I meant." the preacher says, as if he still can’t fully believe what happened. "Not scared to be bored, here in Annville?"

"Nope." Cassidy shakes his head. "Not at all." Then, he turns around to go back inside, not letting go of Jesse’s hand. "How much time until Emily shows up again?"

"Long enough to put the emptiness of the house to good use." Jesse pulls him closer and they kiss.