"It's so odd," Crowley remarked, "that humans do our jobs for us. For Hell, that is."
Aziraphale hummed curiously, eyebrows arching as he tipped his head the faintest of degrees to the left.
Crowley knew what that look meant. "You don't know what today is?" he inquired with a scoff.
A frown, shake of the head; "It's a Thursday, correct?"
"Not that." Crowley rolled his eyes - which Aziraphale couldn't see, given the dark-tinted shades he wore. "It's Valentine's Day."
This just seemed to confuse the angel more. "After the Saint?"
"After the Saint." Crowley nodded.
Aziraphale took a moment to ponder this, playing with his top hat with one well-manicured hand but not removing it from his head. A fond smile eventually appeared, the faintest hints of sadness crinkling the edges. "We did good with him," he noted.
Crowley gave a sarcastic, crooked grin. "Until we ruined it," he pointed out.
"Fair enough." Azi sighed softly, and he seemed lost in thought for a few moments, moments Crowley spent looking a touch uncomfortable. Then the familiar spark of curiosity lit up the angel's face, and he looked to Crowley for the answers: Crowley seemed to understand humanity of this century much better than he did. "How do they /celebrate/ this?"
A grin grew on Crowley's lip, a grin that revealed his canines and gave one an impression of just how twisted his humor could be. "With chocolate and flowers, of course."
Aziraphale just gave him a blank look.