fandomtownies | The Park, Near the Duck Pond, Sunday Night

The Park, Near the Duck Pond, Sunday Night

Crowley is busy up at his hotel, and Aziraphale is feeling bored. He decides to clear his head with a little time in the park, enjoying the quiet cold night air. It wouldn't be unwelcome to him for someone to stop and chat.

((Posted for

brambless, but other interaction or use of the thread is welcome.))

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"Mr. Phale?" Tara calls softly, walking over to him. "It's... it's really good to see you."

Aziraphale gives Tara a sincere smile. "Miss Maclay, it's a pleasure to see you as well. Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you," she smiles, sliding onto the bench next to him. "I'm trying to give Shane and Kate some time alone without making it look too obvious. You've just given me a perfect excuse."

She waves at the other women to continue on without her.

[ooc: Am timing this on the way home from Geoff's party, for those who are continuity whores. Like me.]

"I'm happy to assist." He smiles at the young woman as they continue on their way, then looks over at Tara. "I hope you're well, my dear."

"I'm... better," Tara replies softly, unsure of how much of the last week's events Crowley had shared with him. "And you? Things are... okay?"

"Quite, my dear. Crowley and I are still very happy with our Arrangement." He looks a little concerned. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to help you more myself, Miss Maclay. If there is anything I can do now..."

"No, no," Tara protests, her voice concerned. "I don't want you think... I mean, you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad that things between you and Mr. Crowley are okay. He'd never forgive me if I'd ruined things between you, and you... you deserve to be happy."

"My dear...after six thousand years, I expect the only thing that will ever ruin things between myself and Crowley is ourselves." He lightly touches Tara's arm. "You should never have become caught up in our...difficulties. I am sorry."

"I keep forgetting how small we are, compared to you," Tara murmurs. "Our tiny lives, our petty problems. My whole life, everything I've ever seen or done... must seem so juvenile."

"No, not at all! Don't ever feel that way, my dear. Crowley and I..." He looks away for a moment, before continuing. "Crowley and I like it here. This world...mortals...we find it fascinating."

"Tell me something, Mr. Phale?" Tara asks, turning soft eyes onto him. "Something extraordinary - about people? Something... graceful?"

Aziraphale smiles and echoes her words. "Something...graceful." He's silent for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is hushed, reverent.

"There is a young woman, who has been scarred by her life. She has suffered so deeply that few can even imagine her pain. She has lived with it for so long that she's forgotten what it's like to be without pain, without fear. And yet, she gives utterly of herself to others. She guides, and teaches, and comforts. She loves, openly and without reservation. She shows depths of kindness, to even those whom she barely knows. She struggles to overcome the pain and the fear, but never asks for help, or relief. That, my dear, is Grace."

Tara blinks back tears, warmed by Aziraphale's acceptance. Graceful. Not dirty. And if anyone would know, it would be him.

Wordlessly, she lays her head on Aziraphale's shoulder, lifting her hand to his far shoulder in a loose hug.

The angel gently strokes Tara's hair. "Cry if need to, my dear, if it will help. There's no shame in it."

"It's not that, it's... I... Thank you, Mr. Phale," she replies, her voice hushed and solemn. "You don't know what that means."

"You don't know what it means to me, my dear, that you care about us. You want to help, when you have no reason to want it. I'm deeply grateful for that." He takes her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I..." she sighs, looking down at Aziraphale's hand, covering her own.

"You two... you're so lonely. Especially Mr. Crowley. He's so lonely that sometimes it hurts to look at him, and he hates himself so much. I'm glad he has you, but... meaning no disrespect, Mr. Phale, you look at him and you see evil. You accept him, but you see evil.

"And he doesn't want to be. I... That's not what I see, when I look at him. I see a sweetness, a kindness. He was an angel, once, just like you, wasn't he? And it's still there, inside him. I just... I wanted to show him that it's not all gone. That he hasn't lost himself."

Aziraphale's voice gets very soft, and he doesn't look at Tara when he speaks. "I do see that, my dear. I remember...Before. I see both, what is now and what once was. Both together. Don't mistake me child, I do see Crowley's heart for what it is, even if he doesn't wish it. I see his suffering, and his unending desire to regain the Grace he lost. I don't love him despite it, my dear. I love im because of it. Because I see how much Grace is still within him, just out of his reach, and how much he struggles for it, and how much love he has for it."

"That's... that's really good to hear, Mr. Phale. And he really does, doesn't he? He has such love for Grace. He's so disappointed when he wins with people, when he does tempt them. He... he has so much hope. But it's all for other people. Not for him. He doesn't believe things will ever get better for him..."

She turns a brilliant smile onto Aziraphale.

"And then you held him. Loved him. And I think he's beginning to believe."

"I don't know, my dear. I know Crowley's heart, I believe, but not his mind. You are right about something, although I'll ask you not to say so, not to Crowley nor to anyone else. He expects a great deal more from mortals than he usually sees, and I believe he is disappointed, a bit, when they succumb." He looks solemnly at Tara. "But child, don't ever mistake what he is. Crowley is a demon, whatever he may have been once, and it is his nature to enjoy the Fall, and to want to bring it about. It's a part of him that you cannot separate from the rest."

After a moment, he adds in a whisper, "I never loved him Before."

"You love his darkness, as well as his light."

It's not a question.

His voice is barely audible.

"Yes."

Tara's voice is soft, gentle, understanding. "Mr. Phale... when God loves... does He love just the good parts of a person? Or does He love, heart and soul, everything they are?"

Aziraphale gazes at Tara for a long, silent moment, his eyes glistening with what are almost tears.

"Child, you are, I believe, one of the wisest mortals I have ever encountered. Thank you."

He leans down and kisses her forehead.

The kiss spreads like a benediction through her, washing away another layer of the self-hatred she has felt all her life.

"There's never shame in loving," she whispers. "Only grace."

Aziraphale smiles. "Yes, my dear. Only grace."

He looks across the park, toward the quiet, dark buildings. "They're waiting for you, I believe."

Smiling softly, Tara stands.

"Thank you for a lovely talk, Mr. Phale. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

Impulsively, she gives him a quick hug, before turning to go.

He returns her hug, smiling warmly. "Thank you, my dear. I hope we can sit and talk again sometime."

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The Park, Near the Duck Pond, Sunday Night

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