Who: Aziraphale, Crowley, and Aziraphale's Cherub What: Fluff. Pretty much. The baby has learned to fly, and Crowley is Amused. When: Right the heck now Warnings: Cuteness? Nothing, while they've a baby in the room.
Crowley was lounged in his usual chair down in the Angel's library, quietly supervising the preparations for the club's opening that evening (most of the staff were aware their boss had a 'sense' about things, and continued to work even after not seeing him for most of the day). The child Aziraphale seemed to be charged with, was flitting around the room, giggling and flailing in the air as she worked to coordinate the movement of her wings, and propel her in various directions.
Looking from the small television he had snuck into the library, he jumped up as the child started towards one of the oil lamps in the corner, heading over and wrapping an arm around her middle to pull her away. She didn't seem to appreciate the restriction, whining and wriggling in his arms, until he finally released her in the other direction, setting her off towards the TV. At least she was too small to harm that. He hoped.