"Then let's give it a go. What's the worst than can happen, eh?"

Quite a lot, but that aside it's still a good idea. Crowley leans up just a little, reaches out for his abandoned glass of brandy with his free hand and takes a small sip. He shuffles to sit up a little more, squirming so he can be tucked into Aziraphale and hold his hand while still keeping hold of the bandy.

"Anyway," he says softly, "plenty more nights out to plan. Just the two of us."

Years and years of dates to go yet. They have time to get it right, somehow.