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Someone was outside Crowley's tent, or something, and that was a problem, because he was pretty sure the humans weren't coming back. There was little he could do about the something at this point, having to expend most of his energy on not freezing to death.
Suddenly, the carefully lashed flap flew open, sending a burst of freezing wind into the space, and then, to his secret joy, he heard a familiar voice.
"Oh, honestly," Aziraphale said, clicking his tongue, "this urge you have for exploration is going to be the death of you. Again."
The tent flap was refastened and Crowley watched as the demon turned in a slow circle, taking in the miserable little space. He was wearing a perfectly pristine morning suit, as if he'd just come in off the city street rather than out of a desolate wasteland, and as Crowley watched from his chill bed of furs, Aziraphale performed several small miracles in quick succession, warming the space and sealing it from the outside in a way that was careful to guarantee they didn't suffocate as the fire rose up merrily in the little camp stove, the one Crowley hadn't had enough fuel to light again.
"How's London?" Crowley asked, trying not to think so hard about the fact that Aziraphale had interrupted his hibernation to come rescue him, from so far away that he must have traveled mostly by miracle.
"Delightfully chilly," Aziraphale replied. "What are you doing out here?"
"We were --"
"No more we, I'm afraid," Aziraphale replied, and now he was unbuttoning his jacket and unfastening his bow tie. Crowley shut his eyes against the onslaught of demonic flesh, forcing his mind blank. Aziraphale pushed into the bed behind Crowley, and there was a moment's shock of bare human skin against skin before Aziraphale's side of the equation was replaced with hot fur, and his polar bear snout snuffled against Crowley's shoulder. Crowley's body was suddenly so warm his feet curled.
"Haven't seen a single human since I got off the boat," Aziraphale continued, in a voice that was mostly in Crowley's head. "It was quite a long walk out here and I need my beauty sleep. Do try to heal some of that frostbite while I rest, won't you? There's a bit of a ruckus going on in Europe and it's likely you'll be called in to thwart it."
A ruckus could mean anything from a royal scandal to an all-out war, but Crowley couldn't really focus on that, not with a warm bear snoring in his ear, claws locked gently but possessively around his middle. An hour ago, Crowley had been wondering how much Beez would chew him out for "wasting" a miracle to go home.
Well, they weren't likely to be going anywhere until the ice broke up again in the spring, not with the way Aziraphale slept. Crowley pressed back against his companion and shut his eyes as well.