"I can't believe you did that."
"What? Yeesh, Aziraphale. You used to have a sense of humor."
"Well I still can't believe you did that!!!"
The angel's yell sent centuries of dust from the bookshelves cascading to the floor. He stood there for a moment, glowering at Crowley and unable to say anything else. His face looked very red indeed.
For his part, Crowley was looking calmly back at Aziraphale, looking mildly amused. His face had the look of someone who knows he had done something wrong, but isn't going to be punished. This was not the first time he had seen the angel like this. It was rather a funny joke too; announcing that there was a stain on the front window of the bookshop and pretending to clean it, while really plastering signs that said "Sale!" and "Buy one book, get the one book you bought."
A passing clergyman had found the signs amusing and decided to drop by, finally deciding to purchase one of Aziraphale's more precious books. At least according to Aziraphale. So the man had bought an expensive first edition Bible, and Aziraphale didn't have the heart to say no. Sure, he tried almost everything to discourage it. He'd exaggerated the price. He tried to divert the man's attention to other (slightly less important) books. He was going to say that it wasn 't for sale, but stopped himself upon seeing another one of the "Sale!" signs stuck to the shelf. Crowley didn't know Aziraphale's lips could whiten that much.
The demon retreated to the back of the bookshop, Aziraphale trailing behind him, breathing heavily.
"Cheee… talk about touchy." Crowley mumbled, wrenching doors open and scanning shelves stocked with fine wine. They always kept the back room well stocked, in case instances like this came. It's always been like that; once Aziraphale got drunk, sooner or later he'll sober up, and then he'll be his usual mellow self again. Crowley has got it all figured out.
"C'mere, Aziraphale," the demon said, beckoning his companion to come closer.
"Know what I'd like to do? I'd like to crush your head under my heels now." Aziraphale grumbled. Crowley laughed.
"Come, now. I'm afraid that pleasure is reserved for the humans. You know that." He said mildly, not taking his eyes off the shelf.
"Okay then, I can stab you with my holy sword."
"You gave your flaming sword away, remember?"
"Then I'll douse you with holy water."
"Whoa, enough! Come here now and choose."
"Is this the part where I choose to douse you with holy water after all?"
"No. this is the part where you choose what you want among these." The demon gestured at the numerous bottles.
"Then can I choose holy water?" Aziraphale persisted.
Crowley wrinkled his nose. "Try to stay with me here, now."
"I can't. I'm in denial."
"That's great."
Crowley grinned and flicked his tongue, then started to hum.