Well this is a Oneshot but if you guys want more then please tell me. My creativity is lazy so don't expect anything soon and ofc R&R would be very much appreciated. Enjoy!
"So what's this show, again?" Aziraphale asked as if he suspected that the answer might cause irreparable mental trauma.
"Mmm?" Crowley mused swilling the wine in his glass "oh Supernatural, just this American show, got quite a cult following so I hear, some of them get quite obsessed"
They were in Crowley's flat, which the angel had been in only a few times(1). They were both slouched on the leather sofa with a massive bowl of popcorn in between them. It somehow achieved the status of being sweet and salty at the same time(2). Crowley had his feet up on the glass coffee table and he was having trouble with the TV remote(3).
"Did you have anything to do with it then?" Aziraphale was still a bit dubious about television, plasma and LCD sounded like drugs to him. Another reason why they were at Crowley's, he didn't actually own a television set; let alone a wide screen like the one he was contemplating at this point.
"Not specifically" the demon answered distractedly "I did say it was American, between you and me that's where I get most of my best ideas. Bless this stupid contraption! Aha here we go"
The screen lit up and the show began to play; they ate popcorn in a contemplative silence. It lasted for exactly 3 minute and 27 seconds.
They both burst into loud and heartfelt laughter.
"Oh My Satan! Are they serious?" Crowley burst out, clutching his sides.
"Oh those sillies, they just have no clue" tears were streaming down the angels face.
"As if they actually think holy water only burns?" The demon said pulling himself upright "and the idea that most demons have an ounce of sense, way off, most just work in HR"
Aziraphale composed himself and nodded understandingly, 'as it is above so shall it be below'. He took a deep swig of his wine.
"'spose it could be worse. Well if I were you, I'd feel a bit overshadowed by that Castiel guy, I bet he knows how to use a flaming sword" Crowley had said something wrong and he knew it. The angel's glare would have scythed the Great Wall of China in two(4).
"Was that really necessary, dear?" he muttered "he just doesn't seem to feel anything and almost certainly would have smote you if you had said that to him"
There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch for eternity, or at least the 6 millennia they had known each other.
"And as for those two brothers; like two people would become so dependent on each other" The Demon began to chuckle a little hesitantly but then something occurred to him and his laughter transformed into a maniacal cackle that any evil genius would have applauded.
"Is there something funny?" his counterpart hazarded a little reproachfully as he promptly caught the class of wine which Crowley had just dropped in his spontaneous hysteria.
"No, not really. Hey, is that a rip off of me?" he jabs a finger at the screen completely serious not to say incredulous now.
"It does appear to be. Black suit: check, English accent: check, demon called Crowley: check, I think you've been noticed by some directors, any tempting gone wrong lately?" this was supposed to be comforting but wasn't very affective due to the stupidly righteous grin that the angel wore, if it is actually possible for the ethereal to be smug then that would be a better description but they can't so he wasn't.
"Not to the best of my knowledge" Crowley scratched his head in the long appreciated way of those who think a good itch might cause thoughts to appear out of nowhere "oh wait there was this one guy but I didn't know he was a telly guy, plus he was a lot more drunk than me, I guess a bit of what I said subconsciously stuck"
"Right. My gosh they're almost as incompetent as we were" The Angel's eyes were on the screen that was still playing the episode "like anyone would drop their weapon that many times?"
"I think… we need another drink" Crowley leant back behind the sofa and produced another bottle of wine "I can celebrate yet another terrible show and you can appreciate the spread of angel propaganda, after all I bet you weren't the first choice as posterchild"
Aziraphale's face fell at this somewhat harsh remark "oh because you're such an example to the young Satanists of today, bow before the terrifying demon that is not that bad once you get to know him"
"That was low, real low" the Demon's dirty look couldn't have been cleaned with a pressure washer "no need to involve them".
"Sorry dear" and that made everything better. Who said that Angels can't be devious when they want to be?
"Hey I didn't know you could banish an angel" the Demon's smile slid across his face in such a way as to be ecstatic and subtle at the same time "seeing as you're here I'm going to try it right now!".
He proceeded to dip his fingers into his wine and drag them unsteadily across the lovely (and expensive) cream carpet. The dark stains certainly looked like blood, self-mutilation was so not his style. The sigil he was creating however did not mirror the one on the screen but looked more like a toddlers scrawlings(5) than ancient mysticism. Crowley's hand planted the centre with a flourish.
Nothing happened.
Then some more nothing happened. Aziraphale still lounged on the sofa a bemused look on his face that was just itching to become a grin "bravo"
"Manchester!" Crowley cursed and flopped back onto the sofa.
"You do have to admit its amazing what humans can create when they're motivated" The Angel smiled "yanno promoting love, loyality and doing the right thing"
"Pfft they do it for the money and fame. The bad guys are cool and even the good guys aren't that good, nice car though. If I didn't have the Bentley which, let's face it, is automobile perfection then I might go for one of those American muscle cars; very annoying"
"I always thought that people who had those cars were overcompensating in some…" Aziraphale paused while he slapped his opposite on the back "morally, I mean" he added hastily, blushing deeply.
The doorbell buzzed(6).
"What?" Crowley snapped irritably into the intercom. A crackly squeak replies "Bloody he… I can't understand what you're saying. Go Away!"
The Angel pushed himself off the sofa as most people do who have been sat on one for too long, with a slight sucking by the leather. He wondered over to the front door, opens it leisurely and with a last fairly pius "one does not walk by on the other side" exited.
The Demon sauntered back to his wine and started to speculate whether the brothers on the screen were purposely hugging and crying to attract the ladies rather than being massive wimps when a slightly effeminate cry sounded from downstairs.
"Crowley get down here right now" The angel's dithering tone arrived immediately in his ear "you will not believe this".
And he doesn't; outside there are two men standing in front of a car with smoking pouring from its engine. It's all too familiar.
"Are you shitting me?"
(1)Crowley preferred not to clean up afterwards and Aziraphale didn't really like leaving his books if he could help it
(2)Naturally Aziraphale preferred toffee which Crowley hated with a vengeance. This topic had been discussed many times in drunken stupors and has thusfar not be resolved.
(3)Yet another little thing he had come up with that annoyed the general public, especially old people and technophobes, all the buttons with obscure symbols, not to say anything of the sloth caused by not having to get up to change the channel
(4)That would be lengthways, this might have been possible if not for the fact that it is slowly being demolished for its amount of free building materials
(5)In fact it was a graphic portrayal of what Mr and Mrs Packman get up to when not wondering around mazes eating white dots and getting chased by coloured ghosts
(6)Saved by the bell as it were. If you have eternity, then awkward moments can really last forever.