Who: Crowley and Cassiel (Self-log FTW, at least in his post) What: Fluff. A demon becoming less-demonlike. When/Where: Earlier today, the Angel's library/Cassiel's nursery. Warnings: Cuteness. This is essentially being posted to amuse Mary and Zira.
Crowley might actually have been growing used to (read: fond of) the little girl's giggles. He seemed to be finding whatever reason he could, to spend time down in the Angel's library. At first, it had been observation- curiousity, that caused him to spend time in her presence and get used to the idea. If Aziraphale was going to insist on keeping her around, he might as well find out what made her tick- or, more importantly, kept her quiet.
She was an almost disturbingly happy baby, inevitable given her Angel heritage, and at first, it was sheer force of will that kept the demon in the same room. But, after a while (and a variety of mishaps that the demon may or may not have encouraged) he found himself becoming attatched to the girl, the giggles and squeals going from abhorrent noise to... almost having a soothing effect on the demon.
He'd finally just told the Angel to leave the child in the library, which was quickly turning into her nursery, and he would have one of his bartenders check on her occasionally while he worked. Which of course, was Crowley's way of offering to babysit, while Aziraphale was at the studio, or... stripping for women, or whatever it was he did while not in Crowley's presence. Either way, he'd somehow talked the Angel into agreeing without losing too much of his Pride, so he went with it.
He was sitting on what he considered to be 'his' couch, pouring over some building code or other (seeing as he had invented most of them, he chose to do his booking himself), when he felt the plop of the small angel on the couch next to him, wiggling as she worked to sit upright, after her haphazard landing. He scooted over some, to give her room to sit up, but she didn't seem to be having it, scooting right along with him. Something caught her eye, near the hemline of his shirt, and she reached for it, making him shift even further away. She lunged to follow and ended up faceplanting into the bottom of Crowley's wing, which she promptly dug a hand into.
Squawking, he turned and plucked her up, not appreciating the grubby fingers tugging at his well-groomed feathers. Even at his shoulders, her hands started picking at his shirt, curious about the different-feeling things on his back. Finally, he relented, willing his shirt away and pulling a wing around himself, to let her inspect it.
The small girl was fascinated, giggling a little as she pressed herself into the feathers again, liking the feel of the down against her face. He watched her with an odd expression for a moment, before deciding the feel of someone besides Zira touching his wings was too strange for his liking. His attempt to move her, however, was met with a whine, which he quickly backpedaled to avoid. Gritting his teeth, he reached back and plucked one of his larger feathers, offering it to her as a distraction.
She seemed to buy it, fisting it in as she brought it to her face, an attempt to stick it- like everything else, it seemed- in her mouth. He gently discouraged her, as he moved over to the crib to settle her down. Once she was on the quilt that lined her bed, she seemed to almost-instantly settle, yawning and falling onto her side. He stayed there, wanting to make sure she was asleep, before moving back to the couch to catch a small lap of his own.
It seemed he had only just settled in to sleep, before the babe whined from across the room. His head rose, to make sure she was still in the crib (and not bleeding profusely, or some other Bad Sign). Seeing she seemed intact, she simply tried to will the child back to sleep, with a half-hearted Look and a sigh. She did drop down to sit, which he took as his cue to go back to his nap. The process repeated itself a few minutes later, and by the third time, he gave up reacting; he never intended to turn this into a game, after all.
He hadn't accounted for the child's mobility as he lay down once again, for after the next small while, rather than a whine, there was a weight suddenly present, on his shoulder. Groaning, he turned his head and opened a bleary eye, only to confirm what he felt- Cassiel had herself perched on his wing where it was wrapped around his shoulder, draped over it like a small, human-shaped throw. He blinked, and tried to shift to move the girl off, but there was no easy way, without jarring his wing, making her grab uncomforably at his feathers. Finally, he decided she wasn't hurting anything, and just gave in, setting his head back to the pillow. He was sure she would get bored with him, and leave, eventually.