Crowley shifted in his chair, his left elbow leaning against its back and the rest of his body leaning towards Aziraphale on his right, somehow managing to look even more elegantly uncomfortable than before. He was watching Aziraphale eat his dessert, with a great deal more interest than was usual for such a commonplace occurrence. His lips twitched as he seemed to consider something, reconsider it, and then consider it again.
"You know," he said, breaking the comfortable silence of the past few minutes, "you know how humans express their love for one another using their corporeal forms? I thought… well, I thought that since you enjoy other corporeal pleasures," Crowley gestured in the general direction of Aziraphale's plates, "you would maybe enjoy… that, as well."
"Oh," said Aziraphale, and then added, "um." He glanced over at Crowley, who was staring down his wine glass, uncharacteristically still, with his lower lip sticking out a bit in concentration as though he were attempting to set the wine on fire. Maybe he was attempting to set the wine on fire. Demons – you never know, really.
"That really would be going native, now wouldn't it," Aziraphale gave a tiny, nervous chuckle, "and, ah, have you ever…"
"Well not really," Crowley was tilting his glass back and forth now, in a manner that a nearby waiter found increasingly alarming, "not as such, no.
But then again, I never had sushi until you tempted me to try it."
"Tempted, oh dear, yes I suppose," Aziraphale smiled fondly at the memory, "although tempting is your job really, isn't it?"
"Well then angel, let me tempt you again," Crowley leaned forward, both elbows on the table now, hands tucked under his chin.
"Again?" asked Aziraphale, inserting a finger into his collar and tugging at it.
Crowley looked pointedly at their surroundings and then back at Aziraphale, who shook his head and sighed, "I suppose I have been less proof to temptation recently. The almost-apocalypse quite unnerved me, you know."
"Yes, me as well. Worked out alright though, didn't it?" Crowley waved his hand non-committedly, "For now at least."
"For now," Aziraphale nodded.
Crowley cleared his throat. "So, angel, what'll it be? I don't think you've ever been to my place. I have houseplants. Did I ever tell you about my houseplants?"
"No, no I don't believe you have," Aziraphale stopped fidgeting with his collar, and picked up his fork again, "Houseplants, did you say?" he murmured, spearing a petite madeleine and taking a delicate bite, "My, this sauce is heavenly."
"Oh yes, loads of houseplants," Crowley reached out with his spoon and scooped up some fruit salad for himself, "they're very… verdant."
"In that case – I might just come over and get a look at these houseplants of yours," said Aziraphale.
"No! Really?" Crowley's eyebrows rose, his dark glasses slipping down his nose just low enough to reveal the tops of his serpentine eyes.
Aziraphale licked his fork and placed it neatly next to his now-empty plate. "Scrumptious," he smiled contentedly. "Crowley, I have objected before on the grounds that – well, they have already sentenced me to death by hellfire, haven't they? And I believe – I mean, I no longer believe – well…"
Crowley was still staring at Aziraphale with raised eyebrows, his grin growing broader by the minute.
Aziraphale was still searching for words. There were things he hadn't meant to say out loud, but now that they were at the tip of his tongue, they were demanding to be set free. "Gabriel and the other angels," he whispered, "I don't believe they were acting for Good."
"Mmm, shocking isn't it," Crowley cupped his chin in his hands.
"Yes! Quite shocking!" Aziraphale's whisper was just a tad louder now, "I don't believe any of the angels actually know what The Almighty's –"
"Ineffable plan is?" Crowley cut in.
Aziraphale nodded emphatically, "Yes, they're just acting according to… according to –"
"Their own interest?" Crowley suggested gently.
"Yes!" Aziraphale looked around guiltily, shocked at his own impudence.
"Sort of what you would expect from our side, eh?" Crowley leaned back in his chair again.
"I suppose I no longer know what to expect. Or what the sides are. We seem to be the only ones on their side," Aziraphale gestured towards the humans surrounding them, eating their food, having their conversations, blissfully oblivious to the fact that they would all be dead by now if Heaven had had its way.
"Traitors," agreed Crowley.
"Well," Aziraphale seemed to bristle a little at the label, "I feel that what I did was right."
"Well then you must be right, angel," Crowley smiled, "I don't think you can do wrong."
"But that would mean…" Aziraphale looked up, hesitantly.
"Mmm," Crowley sighed. It was a deep sigh, a sigh that hinted at centuries of thought behind it, "I have been waiting for you to realize that for a very long time, angel. You felt it, I know you did, but you were in denial for longer than I thought possible."
Either Aziraphale's eyes were brimming with human-like tears, or it was a trick of the light that made Crowley think it. "I was a fool, blindly obedient," Aziraphale's voice broke and he folded his hands together on the table, "No more."
"Ah, but you were never obedient, angel," Crowley's lips quirked and the corners of his eyes crinkled in good humor, but his voice was gentle again, "I was quite shocked by you at our first meeting. Even then I thought, how is he not fallen? You felt the Almighty did the wrong thing casting them out of the garden with no protection," he was laughing now, "you were worried that the Almighty was wrong. You gave up your sword!" Crowley shook his head, "Who, knowing you, gave you that sword, and whom did they think you would use it against?
Oh, and the Great Flood. You knew it could not be a Good thing as much as I did. You could not bear to admit to yourself that you knew."
"It's true, I couldn't bear it. I can hardly bear it now. Oh, should I have done more to protect them all?" Aziraphale placed his hand on the table, on top of Crowley's, and looked earnestly into his eyes.
"You did alright, angel," Crowley patted Aziraphale's hand, "you did alright."
"Is that why you fell?" asked Aziraphale curiously. He had never gotten a straight answer to that, but he had gotten quite a number of conflicting ones that made varying degrees of sense.
"I don't really like to talk about that. But I suppose questioning the Great Plan was a big part of it, yeah.
Many of the fallen angels weren't quite so bad as they are now, you know," Crowley poured himself the last of the wine.
"Did it hurt, falling?" Aziraphale asked, watching Crowley drain his glass.
"Yes," Crowley sat up abruptly, "it did." He pushed his dark glasses back up using his thumb, and raised his hand at the nearest waiter, "Cheque please!"
He turned to Aziraphale, "So, shall we? To my place?"
"Do you know," Aziraphale said with what might have, on a human, be called a blush, "I think you would have made quite a wonderful angel."
Crowley smiled. It was almost tender.
"Once you would have attacked me for saying that to you," Aziraphale reminded him.
Crowley shrugged, "Things change. Houseplants?"
"Houseplants," agreed Aziraphale, beaming.
