"No," he agrees. "You are a lousy demon." He grins in a lopsided way and just sort of basks a little in the glow between the two of them. "That's something I love about you."

It's different, now that it's all laid out on the table. Six thousand years of mutual pining (well, not six thousand years' worth) had brought them to this moment, and it brings Aziraphale strength. Nothing can take this away from them, not anyone.

He throws his arms around Crowley, and embraces him with an angelic grace.