(Untitled)

[a_fell]

Aziraphael considers knocking on the door of the flat, just to be polite, but reconsiders; people these days, he's found, tend to have an armful of baby. It hinders the door-opening process. So he pokes his head around the door instead, calls out a polite greeting, edges into the hall - and promptly almost falls over a small dog.

It's good to be

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[the_woodpecker]

Ellie yelps, and slinks off to sulk in the study.

Bernard emerges after her, with, indeed, an armful of baby.

"Hey, angel."

He looks only slightly harried.

[a_fell]

"Afternoon, Bernard. All well, I hope?"

He reaches out to tickle Anthony under the chin, smiling helplessly when his finger is grabbed and held tightly in a tiny fist.

[the_woodpecker]

"Fairly quiet, yeah."

Anthony smiles back, because this person feels like Mummy and Daddy and Sunny and Ellie and Crowley and all the friendly people and things he's ever met, all rolled up into one.

Bernard grins down at his son.

"Here's somebody you haven's seen in a while, yeah?"

[a_fell]

"Unfortunately his godfather's a bad and rude man, and gracious isn't he big?"

Since extracting his finger isn't really working terribly well, Aziraphael pushes forwards instead and pokes Anthony on the nose. He looks up at Bernard to share his glee at the look of righteous indignation on the baby's face.