"To our side," Crowley says softly. Her favourite toast, along with to the world. The two mean nearly the same thing, to Crowley. She smiles with no edges as she lifts her glass and clinks it against his, brings it to her mouth to taste the effervescent liquid within. It tastes like sunshine and celebration and promises. It tastes the way Aziraphale's beaming face looks.

"Careful there, angel," she murmurs, teasing. "Glow any brighter and you'll be outshining the chandeliers."