50-A Minotaur Lane, In the Wee Hours of the Morning
Aziraphale awoke with a start. He was in a bed that was definitely not his, in a room that was unfamiliar, and he was alone. And not in the 'mmm, warm spot to curl up in while your lover makes you breakfast' way. His wings were furled as well, and he never slept that way anymore. Throwing himself out of the bed, the angel looked frantically around, until common sense told him that it was a hotel room, and that the warmth he felt emanating from the ring on his finger meant Wilson was at the very least alive.
Then the memories hit him, all the events of the past two days, seen through the eyes of someone who was not him.
"Oh...dear...God..."
A moment later, Aziraphale was standing in the middle of his living room, feeling the strong desire to lock the doors and crawl into a closet for the next millenium. But first, he had to check on Wilson. Had to make certain the young doctor was all right. Furling his wings, he took the stairs at a run, but then slowed when he reached the top and slipped quietly into the bedroom.
"James love?" he said hesitantly, moving to kneel by the bed. "James?"
[ooc: For dr-jwilsonmd, and SP.]
Then the memories hit him, all the events of the past two days, seen through the eyes of someone who was not him.
"Oh...dear...God..."
A moment later, Aziraphale was standing in the middle of his living room, feeling the strong desire to lock the doors and crawl into a closet for the next millenium. But first, he had to check on Wilson. Had to make certain the young doctor was all right. Furling his wings, he took the stairs at a run, but then slowed when he reached the top and slipped quietly into the bedroom.
"James love?" he said hesitantly, moving to kneel by the bed. "James?"
[ooc: For dr-jwilsonmd, and SP.]