enchantersnight: (Gabe handcuffs)
[personal profile] enchantersnight
Such as the fact that, while possessing his original body for the first time, a rather handsome male serpent, if he didn't say so himself ... well, there had been a lovely female in Eden, all ready for him, hadn't there? And the serpent inside him had rather liked her, and she'd had scales to die for, and Crowley hadn't yet completely mastered the art of controlling the serpent, and it was the first time he, or any other angel for that matter, had ever felt lust anyway, even lust that wasn't his own ... Long story short, he'd invented beastiality, adultery-via-possession, angelic sex and the first ten rules or so of what to do when the possessee takes over the possessor (which boiled down to allowing some time to panic and then enjoying the ride, really), all in one afternoon. End result, a lineage of serpents with quite a few metaphysical genes built in that perhaps the Lord had never intended them to have, though judging that was always a bit iffy. Ineffable. Something.

Possibly he should be slightly weirded out that he was currently in the body of his great-great-great-to-the-power-of-infinity grandkid. Well. Grandkid by proxy, anyway, but it still counted. Possibly he should be slightly weirded out that said grandkid had appeared to recognise him, when it let him in, in a distant, racial memory sort of way. Possibly he should be weirded out that he had a whole species of bodies available on the planet for him at any time, that no other angel but him could use, and no-one upstairs or down had even noticed.

Possibly he should be weirded out that his legacy to the world, aside from telemarketing, pedestrian terror and the M25, was a few billion very charming great-to-eternity grandkids with decent crushing capacity and a nasty bite.

On the other hand, he was still here, the body was rather comfortable, and his angel didn't seem to mind that he was slightly more prone to hissing in it that he used to be, and tended to carry a little more weight than before. It took him longer to transform it back up after a shift than his old one, but all in all, it still suited him, he thought.

And while back on the subject, actually ...

It was always odd, the sensation. Most angels went with human forms to start with. Even Aziraphale had had his premade that shape when the Big Guy sent him down. Crowley thought he was just about the only angel going for whom shapeshifting was a physical endeavour (with the possible exception of Gabriel, who'd hijacked a god, and one prone to shifts himself to boot). Like one big full-body healing sneeze, it was.

Apparently sounded like one too, if the clatter from the kitchen and the hurried rumble of feet was anything to go by. Aziraphale recognised the sound all too well, by now. But Crowley was too busy trying to hold his head together to be able to look up at him. Taking out a small base of demons had stretched his mind a bit far, and the shift left him feeling like his brains were trickling out his ears, between his fingers.

On the upside, he now had ears and fingers.

"Dearest! Dearest, are you alright?" Soft hands wrapped around his own, pulling his fingers away from his skull, lifting his hands gently but inexorably away from his face. "Crowley, dearest! What is it, what's wrong ..."

"Hurtssss," he hissed back, trying to open his eyes and scrunching them shut again rather hurriedly. "Sssstupid, too ssssoon ... Ssssorry, angel. Thought I wassss resssted enough ..."

"Oh, you bloody idiot," Aziraphale growled, letting go of Crowley's hands to reach down and rest one soft palm over his eyes, gentle despite the temper in his voice. "Hold still, Crowley, let me ... There. One hangover cure for shapeshifting demons who shouldn't need it in the first place if they were being careful, there you go ..."

The pain and hollow, stretchy feeling in his skull dissipated, a delicious little tingling sensation reaching down from between his eyes, through his head, down along his limbs and torso, tickling his toes and sparking in his fingers, curling lightly across the wings curled in the ethereal planes. Crowley made a positively indecent noise, noting that one for later, oh yes, Aziraphale was absolutely doing that again later, in private. Or in public. Crowley wasn't fussy there.
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March 2011

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