Disclaimer Part III: Ditto everything from before plus a 1936 Super Charged Auburn Speedster, Sweet Charity, Christmas, Easter, 500 thread count sheets, Holy water, and Franz, who belongs to CaptainEmo and is being used by permission of same.

Aziraphale was dithering.

He was puttering around the shop in the way that angry or distracted English people do, getting nothing done, and actually probably making more work for himself later, but he neither noticed nor cared. He kept thinking about Crowley(1), or more specifically, the lack of Crowley.

It made him realise a few important things. One, Crowley was his only friend. The realisation of which led to: Two, practically everything he had done since the Beginning had involved Crowley directly or indirectly. And these combined realisations led him to conclude: Three, he didn't have much of a life. He knew that he shouldn't feel sorry about that, being on a mission and all. Still, even secret agents go to parties. Aziraphale didn't.

Well, to be fair, he had gone to a few. He could tick them off on his fingers, though: The first ever Christmas party. The first ever Easter party. The cast party after opening night of Sweet Charity by accident. Oh, and Franz(2)'s birthday party that one time. That had been... a blast. Four. Four real parties.

Aziraphale sighed. And now Crowley seemed to be bored with him. Well, two could play at that game! Aziraphale set down the stack of papers he'd just picked up.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would look into getting a life of some sort.

Crowley couldn't figure out how to get that damn red type off his computer screen(3). Even unplugging the machine didn't make it turn off. He had serious misgivings about bringing it somewhere to get fixed, and even worse ones about just throwing it out. The reason for this being that he couldn't predict the outcome of someone's opening the monitor or the screen's getting cracked or smashed. Best case scenario: the monitor would blow up. Worst case scenario: demonic forces would be unleashed upon the world. Again. Crowley wasn't about to take that chance. If only he still had some Holy water.

Of course there were no guarantees, but it was the safest option he could think of. Heh, he thought. Safest for whom? Ah well. Nothing for it, really. He'd just have to go out and get some more. But in the meantime, he'd have to hide the computer somehow. He couldn't have Chalmers seeing it in this state.

Crowley sighed frustratedly and bent to pick up the monitor. He heaved upwards. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. It was like trying to pick up a pillar. He strained and pulled with every ounce of his demonic strength, but to no avail. It had either multiplied its weight by about thirty thousand or fused itself to the desk, which in turn had fused itself to the floor. In any case he couldn't lift it. He grunted angrily and stepped back, pushing wet hair off his face. He'd just have to hide it. What would be the least conspicuous?

Crowley looked around his living room. Couch cushions? No. Rubbish bin? Empty, but still no. His eye wandered into the bedroom. Sheets? Possibly.

Fifteen minutes later, Crowley was gone off to get the Holy H2O, the computer was covered with sheets with a note pinned to them warning Chalmers not to uncover it, and Chalmers himself was pulling up to the building in his off-white 1936 Super Charged Auburn Speedster(4), which had, naturally, come across the pond with him.

He trotted up the stairs, entered the apartment with the key, and was not too surprised to find Crowley absent, but was mildly surprised to find his computer draped in white sheets and gently fuming.

With slightly furrowed brow, Chalmers backed into the kitchen and started searching for a fire extinguisher. Unable to find one(5), he picked up a white sofa cushion in defence and approached the smoking monitor. Ignoring Crowley's note he carefully pulled the sheets off, intending to keep the 500 thread count cotton from igniting. When the screen was revealed, however, he discovered the source of the smoke, and it is fair to say that it scared the bejesus out of him.

Just at that moment the whole damned(6) thing burst into flames, and Chalmers started shouting expletives that he could not have said on American network TV and began beating the monitor with his cushion.

Conveniently enough, the Bentley also pulled up just at that moment, bearing Crowley bearing a large jar of Holy water(7). Seeing Chalmers' car in the drive, Crowley feared the worst, dashed up the stairs, burst through the open door, and had his fears confirmed.

"What the Hell's going on?" he screamed as he ran towards Chalmers and the blazing monitor.

"Your computer's on fire!" Chalmers screamed back unnecessarily. "What's that!"

"Water!"

Chalmers grabbed the jar, twisted it open, and doused the flames, which had begun to char his designer suit.

The fire subsided, but the screen also began to melt, the plastic to fold in on itself, and all the metal bits inside corroded right away.

Both men stood agape at the frightening mess before them, with steam and smoke commingling and polluting the air of the flat, Chalmers' arms still raised holding the jar and its cap. Finally, he turned towards Crowley and asked, "Is there something I've missed?"

(1)Stop it! It's not like that, okay! Ugh, you people.

(2)Franz worked (in fact, probably still works) in the Initial Adjustment Department of Purgatory. For more information on Franz, see "Thunderbolt and Lightning" by CaptainEmo.

(3)Ironically, inspired by this situation, Crowley later developed something that restored his good- er- bad name in Hell. I call it Those Bastard Websites That Attack You With Pop-Ups and Then Your Computer Freezes Because It's So Confused by Your Trying to Close All the Damn Pop-Ups and Then You Have to Shut the Computer Off Without "Shutting Down," So That the Next Time You Turn the Thing on, It Forces You to Run ScanDisk or Something to Make Sure None of Your Stupid Programs Got Hurt When You Turned the Computer Off the Wrong Way, Dammit! So All in All You End Up Losing Half An Hour Because Of Those Bastard Websites. Thank you, Crowley.

(4)Crowley had been made speechless for the first time in several decades when he laid eyes on that baby. And it was the first time ever that he had felt lust for another man's car. He had wished the Bentley a CD player to make himself feel better.

(5)In point of fact, Crowley did own a fire extinguisher, after the bookshop burning down and his sunglasses melting and the Bentley being temporarily destroyed, but it wasn't in the kitchen.

(6)Literally.

(7)No one knows who Crowley's Holy Objects supplier is. Aziraphale has been suggested, but technically only priests can make water holy, and God, I suppose, but at any rate, Aziraphale has never given Crowley Holy water. The demon is known to have a contact in the Catholic Church that has been traced to Chicago, but that's another story.