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Apprehension and anger fought a battle on Gabriel’s face when he accompanied Crowley to the elevator. Crowley could feel the relief emanating from the Archangel when the elevator arrived.

“So, we leave you and that demon alone and you leave us alone?” Gabriel repeated the agreement, trying in vain to sound unafraid.

“Of course, Gabriel,” Crowley said in his best Aziraphale imitation. “It would be a shame if there were to be any… heated altercations.”

“Yes.”

“Have a wonderful day,” Crowley said cheerfully before entering the elevator.

Only when the doors were closed behind him, he allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding. For a moment he pressed his forehead against the cool material of the walls. Then he straightened himself and pressed the button. It was a long way from Heaven to Earth.

Sighing, he turned around and halted when his eyes fell on the large mirror at the back of the elevator.

It was not his own face of course that stared back at him. It was Aziraphale’s. The familiar blond curls, the soft features of a cherub face and those incredible deep blue eyes. And still, Crowley could not help but wonder how the Archangels could not have seen the difference. How they could not have noticed the lack of a warm loving glow from deep inside. How it escaped their attention that the most beautiful soul Heaven had to offer was not inside the body that stood in front of them.

Crowley stretched out his hand to touch the reflection. It was cold and lifeless, so unlike the rare occasions in which he had touched Aziraphale.

Even colder was the realization that this was what he would always see in a mirror now when things went south; when the demons of Hell noticed that it was not Crowley standing trial, but that they had an angel in their clutches. The angel that helped ruining their plans. It did not bear thinking about what they would do to Aziraphale.

Then Crowley would have to wear this face for all eternity as a reminder of his best friend, the righteous owner of the body. And as beautiful as Aziraphale’s form was to look at, it meant nothing without the beautiful soul inside.

A loud “ding” ripped Crowley out of his thoughts and he stepped out of the lift. Immediately his eyes swayed towards the escalators and then the elevator on the opposite side. Nobody in sight.

He forced himself to remain calm and left the building to make his way to St. James Park. There he waited for what seemed like an eternity.

And when he finally saw his own form march towards him, he smiled a broad smile. He knew that he would never be so happy to see a thin, tall redhead in a mirror.