Disclaimer – Nope, after a lengthy appeal process, still not mine.
Blue and Green
Crowley navigated his way out of London with a scowl on his face, but at least he was getting some work done. This kind of mood often inspired him to create the most wonderful chaos and so he decided to make the most it. Thus it was that hundreds of commuters found themselves stuck on the tube in the sweltering summer heat due to a power failure. The London Underground was of course invented by Downstairs, for however convenient you might imagine it to be in theory, in reality it is all too often a complete nightmare. By the time Crowley had reached the very outskirts of the capital the scowl had faded a bit, leaving him looking more pensive than angry.
He really didn't want to go to Wales, not at all. He kept trying to justify his reluctance with a variety of excuses - it was far away; it was full of sheep; they all spoke some kind of bizarre language which seemed to involve trying to cover the other person with as much phlegm as possible – anything but having to explain his hatred of beaches. He didn't like telling that story at all and had successfully managed to avoid anyone ever finding out. The thought that he might end up having to tell the angel everything brought the scowl right back to his face where it settled itself for the long haul.
His temper wasn't helped by his surroundings, which were becoming increasingly green and leafy. Crowley didn't like the country much either, largely because he felt it didn't fit in with his image. He really did not find Barbour jackets and Wellington boots a great fashion statement and they appeared to be some sort of uniform amongst people in the countryside. Also, it smelled funny and there was a lot of mud around. No, the city was where Crowley was happy and it was where he would have stayed if he hadn't felt obliged to seek out Aziraphale. Loathe as he was to admit it, he did rather enjoy the angel's company, even if it did mean having to go to the beach.
It was a beautiful day and that annoyed Crowley too. He was glad of his sunglasses, which he never took off anyway, even when it was dark. He mentally cursed the brilliant blue, cloudless sky above him, then wondered why he felt he had to keep it to himself and cursed it verbally for a while. This kept him occupied for an hour or so, but eventually he tired of it and decided to search for a cassette. He pulled one entitled "Classic Beethoven" out and shoved it into the tape player. As he settled back into his seat, the familiar strains of Queen washed over him and it dawned on him that that particular cassette had probably been in the car for quite some time.
After a considerable amount of driving, Crowley eventually found himself driving past a cheerful-looking sign welcoming him to Wales. Another hour or so later and he caught his first glimpse of the sea, the sun glinting off its surface appearing to dance. Anyone else would have wondered at the beauty of it all. Crowley was not anyone else. The scowl intensified as he began to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable conversation that lay ahead.
