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St. James' Park is still and quiet. Mostly quiet. Apart from the angel and demon snogging on the park bench.

"Crowley," Aziraphale asks in between kisses. "You did freeze time, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes," Crowley answers absently, nuzzling Aziraphale's neck. He's calculating the best way to straddle Aziraphale's lap without falling off the bench.

Aziraphale assists matters by twisting slightly and placing a steadying hand at Crowley's back. "Then why do I feel as though we are not alone?"

Crowley has begun a dual assault on Aziraphale's clothing. His fingers fumble with the buttons on Aziraphale's waistcoat. He works at the bow tie with his teeth. "--uck--," Crowley mumbles, his words muffled by fabric.

"What?"

Crowley manages to work the tie free. "Ducks," he says, more distinctly this time. "That's the ducks."

Aziraphale nearly loses his hold on Crowley. "You froze everything but the ducks?"

Crowley shrugs. "The ducklings are just learning to swim. They need to practise."

Aziraphale's expression is exceedingly fond. "Crowley, I always knew you--"

"Shut up, angel," Crowley says without heat.