Rated: K
"-and they make this dessert there with these strawberries that are absolutely orgasmic, hold on, lemme snap some up for you, man-"
Crowley, who'd partially stopped listening somewhere around the time Gabriel had begun describing the subtle nuances of various different snacks through the ages, absently spoke up.
"That's disgustingly kind of you, angel, but strawberry's not quite my thing."
Gabriel suddenly glared at Crowley, who, against all reason (or perhaps because of it) shuddered.
Not that he'd give Gabriel the satisfaction of seeing he had him off balance.
"What-" Gabriel spoke slowly, voice dangerous. "-do you mean, 'you don't like strawberries'?"