Aziraphale raises his eyebrows and looks at Crowley. Crowley smiles.
"Make you fall."
"Fall?" Aziraphale's scandalized again. The demon looks ahead, still smiling. "Fall?!" Aziraphale protests, thinking about how Crowley intends to do this.
"In love" Crowley adds in a whisper, starting the car without looking at him.
Aziraphale looks at him again, thinking he must have misheard. Or not? Can it really be what he thinks? Or maybe he misheard. Surely, he has a deep appreciation for Crowley. Of course, he has a deep appreciation. But...
"W-What?"
"We'll be late if we don't get back now" Crowley drives without looking at him, returning to the road.
And very, very subtly, taking advantage of a turn of the steering wheel, he leans a little, thinking that loving a demon like he does is a bit falling from the grace of all. Although, well, he was an angel. And angels should care and protect... and love. It's supposed to be part of his job description too.
Crowley glances at him with that movement and suddenly turns the wheel so that Aziraphale falls completely, raising his arm again.
"There was a little snake on the road" he defends himself against an accusation that no one made to justify it.
"So caring for all creatures, of course... your bad habits, rather "Aziraphale protests a little, but he leans quite well, thinking again that it's just delightful to be here.
"Only with my kind. If it had been a mongoose, I would have tormented it."
"Unless it was a baby mongoose..." Aziraphale puts a subtle hand on Crowley's leg. Just to have it somewhere.
"Then, I would have stopped the car and looked for the nest."
"To bring it to him. I know."
"To give them a... warm... greeting "he looks at him sideways.
"Sometimes I think... this is like the glasses, you know?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't need to wear them when it's just me. I understand that you do sometimes and all that. But it's not required." Aziraphale moistens his lips and looks at Crowley sideways, and once again, they are very close.
"I'm just... used to it. And I like how they look on me" the demon defends himself with a shrug.
"I suppose it's the same with this whole being... the evil demon Crowley."
"What?"
"I know..." he starts with some care "that you're a much better demon than you pretend to be. So... there's no need to pretend."
"For all hells, why don't you put up a bloody advertisement?" he protests, frowning.
"Alright, alright... maybe that wasn't the right term" he turns his face towards him.
"You're not going to start trying bloody terms!"
"Come on, they don't have to be terms detrimental to your wickedness..."
"I'm not taking any risks!"
"Are you afraid I'll say nice things about you?"
"No!" yes.
"Come on, just to annoy you..." he smiles a little more.
"What does that say about you, eh, Angel? Annoying people so cheerfully and without remorse."
"The wonder is that you're not people, you're... a demon. And I can probably pass it off as... an attempt to stop your demonic onslaught."
"Surely, Gabriel will congratulate you on your mastery of rhetoric."
"Don't get off the topic."
"Oh, of course, I'm getting off track" he teases again, enjoying the irritation it causes.
"Surely, if needed, I can find several nice things to say."
"I could find some not-so-nice ones."
"I'm sure mine would embarrass you more" he gives a little affectionate pat on the arm, easily mistaken for just the movement of the car.
"And I bet mine would scandalize you more."
"No one would believe you" he looks at him again from the corner of his eye.
"Oh, they definitely would."
"We'd all know you're just making it up to scandalize me."
"Want to bet on it?"
"Bet... on what?"
Say a kiss, say a kiss, say a kiss.
"You... you pay for the drinks?"
Damn.
Aziraphale looks at him with absolute disbelief.
"That I... pay for the drinks?! Well, I see you're not very interested in winning or losing."
"You take care of my demonic deeds for the entire next month?"
"One day."
"One day is nothing!"
"I'm not taking care of a whole month! A week."
"Then suggest something else."
"If I win... you do things my way for a whole week. If you win, it's the other way around."
"Your... way?"
"Yes. Everything my way."
"And what does that imply?"
"Everything. Come on, or at least... some things. I'll dress you nicely and make sure you don't drink with your elbows on the table."
"Alright, nobody will call me coward" he forces a smile, wrinkling his nose.
"I see you like the idea."
"No, but I'm pretty sure..."
"No, you're not going to win."
"Go ahead, then. Hit me with your best shot."
"Well, first there's the most obvious... you prefer spending time with an angel over a demon."
Crowley moistens his lips.
"That's a tie."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't see you surrounded by other angels."
"We're talking about you. And I'm actually surrounded by you for... well, obvious reasons."
"Oh, really?" eye roll.
"That."
"I mean, what else?"
"You're exceptionally sweet to the angel, as well."
Crowley squirms a bit but tries to keep his composure.
"E-Even though... well, the angel sometimes..." he blushes a bit "You still haven't told me anything scandalous."
"I'm waiting for you to finish."
"Are you so sure about what you're going to say?"
Crowley nods, pursing his lips as he pulls into the hotel parking lot, once again ignoring the valet.
"The children" the angel continues.
"What about them?"
"You like them. You care about them."
"Of course NOT."
"Yes. And if you had one close, it would be a problem for you."
"What a problem it would be!" he blushes a bit because he actually enjoyed being a nanny to Warlock.
"Well, problem or not. I actually think you like them."
"Anything... else?"
"For now, no. I want to hear what you have to say.
"Let's see..." he turns off the engine and looks at him sideways because... they should get out, but... The angel is still leaning on him, apparently hugging him a little. He intertwines their fingers, nervously "Aziraphale's bad things..."
"Short list" eye roll.
"Let's see. Let's start from the beginning, that sword business."
"Oh, come on..."
"It's a valid point" he shrugs, laughing.
"That topic doesn't embarrass me. I did the right thing."
"Second thing, double standards."
"Excuse me?"
"Questioning things and judging God by your own moral standards" he looks at him because... that's one of the things he likes most about him.
"What?! It's not like that!"
"You just defended yourself with THAT."
"No!" he blushes a bit because, well, he knows it's true.
"You said you believe you did the right thing, even though it wasn't what you thought... God wanted" he looks at him, so close that he could kiss him now and... nothing more.
"No one knows what God's plan is... but it's been so long, and I haven't been punished, so I suppose she wasn't that much against what I did."
"Sure, sure, now it's easy to say, but back then..."
"I suffered quite a few years for that, alright" he blushes a bit.
"So tough your life..." he teases.
"But it was the right thing! Why did I need a sword anyway?!"
"Apparently, to light the fireplace and... occasionally, maybe, if you weren't too busy and it wasn't tea time. Defend the east gate of Eden. But let's move on to the next point since you seem to plan to protest about all of them...
"There are more points?!"
"Infinity of them" he smiles.
"Like what?"
"The... Bloody puppy eyes issue."
Aziraphale raises his eyebrows and looks at Crowley, and he's so happy here... again. He turns a bit to look at him without separating.
"What puppy eyes issue?"
"YOUR bloody puppy eyes" he doesn't look at him.
"I don't have puppy eyes!"
"Not now, but you put them on when you want something specific. It's super manipulative of you."
"But I... No! I only have two normal eyes! You're the one with special eyes!"
"My eyes aren't special; they're snake eyes. And snakes aren't even... particularly more adorable than puppies."
"Adorable?"
"I-I mean..."
Aziraphale keeps staring at him, mouth slightly open. Crowley clears his throat and opens the car door to get out. Ahem.
The angel almost protests with that, squinting his eyes a little.
Alright, alright... well. Crowley has gotten himself into a mess because of being an idiot, and somehow he had to get out of it.
Ugh... he's going to get out of the car wondering if he really makes puppy eyes.
Yes, you do. The entire world adores Hamlet as the best play in HISTORY because you do.
Maybe he should do it more often to see if he gets kissed... ahem. Crowley steps away from the car and runs a hand through his hair, waiting for him.
"Just to clarify... Any kind of eyes I make is... purely accidental."
The demon holds his gaze with raised eyebrows in disbelief.
"You, on the other hand..."
"Me?"
"Yes. You have those deep eyes... that dazzle, and you also make a helpless puppy FACE."
"Excuse me, but I was BEGGING for holy water for over two hundred years without you agreeing to help."
"For a specific reason!"
Rolling eyes.
"You know what holy water does to you! What if you... what if you had an accident and just... And besides, it would have been my fault!"
"I know what holy water does; why in the hell would I not be careful?"
"Well, I don't know! It's still a huge risk!"
"We're not going to argue about this again."
"No, but..." he squeezes his eyes because no, DEFINITELY, he wouldn't want a life without Crowley.
"The point here is that I won."
"Of course not!"
"Do you plan to add more things?"
"I could add many things! Like... all the times you've helped me or when you've saved my books or..."
"We need to clarify the concept because that... doesn't count."
"Why not?!"
"Because... you're on my side, and I want you to stay there, so the good things I do for you... don't count."
"W-Well... well! I don't know why you always want so much of that!" he blurts out, blushing a bit, and... truth be told, he regrets it a bit, grabbing him by the shirt to stop him.
"What?" he stops.
"Uh... I meant..." he hesitates a bit and... lets him go, pulling the fabric of the shirt a bit.
Crowley glances at him, waiting for him to speak.
"But you do them, and they count in your favor" the angel responds "We should go upstairs."
"Of course, it doesn't count in my favor because the motives are different from pure... altruism" anyway, the demon nods to going upstairs.
"Well, maybe it's the same with the eyes you accuse me of making."
"Of course not, those are things that benefit you or that you want in a completely selfish and self-interested way."
"When did I make those eyes last? In the Middle Ages?" He crosses his arms.
"Excuse me? Like... twenty fucking minutes ago."
"No! And what did I get?!"
""Let's go on vacation, Crowley," "I want to go see that stupid magician, Crowley," "Let's watch the sunset, Crowley," "Let me drive" "he imitates him.
"Oh, come on! You can't be asked for anything now!"
"I haven't said you can't. I said you do it that way."
"I don't do it in any way; you could say no! And if you didn't want to go on vacation with me... I also didn't want to go with you!"
Rolling eyes from Crowley. Wasn't this idiot the one who could feel... love or whatever? Floating in the air or who knows. The one... that obviously is not there. Of course. And that's why he didn't have to feel it. Sure.
"I almost had a bloody aneurysm with that stupid cocktel umbrella" he mutters. Can we move on from this topic already?
"Well, to be honest, you burned it" apparently, not...
The demon looks at him because... no. He's not going to tell him that what happened is that he felt guilty for not granting him the stupidest and smallest wish.
Puppy eyes.
He squeezes his eyes shut, and they're going to enter the dining room where the lights are half on, and dinner has started.
Aziraphale moistens his lips, asking the girl at the door and listening to the instructions about the table they should sit at (miraculously the one in the front row). Before entering... he turns with Crowley, who is behind him, feigning the utmost disinterest in all this possible. That requires a great effort.
"Come, I think... we have good seats" and hesitating a bit, he reaches out and takes Crowley's wrist.
"Can't believe you whined for like an hour and a half because I got your clothes wet, and now you've miraculously created a front-row table."
"It was a coincidence."
"Tell that to the judge."
"This miracle is better than the clothes one... it's for you to enjoy the show" he assures, leading him through the tables, pulling him and moving his hand a bit away from the wrist towards his hand.
"Like a condemned man, I'll enjoy it" rolling eyes but letting himself be pulled.
"How dramatic!" he protests, more focused on getting him completely by the hand, the demon intertwines their fingers naturally without even noticing.
Aziraphale notices it, and his heart speeds up a bit again, not wanting to reach his seat.
"The grace is in... imagining how he deceives our senses."
"He doesn't."
"Yes, he does! You don't let yourself be carried away" they reach their little table with two chairs and a candle.
"Because it's tremendously easy to see where the trick is; it's not real magic."
"It's skill! And it's not that easy with good magicians."
"Unlike..." he smiles, looking at him and sitting down, or rather, leaning over the chair without letting go.
"I do it acceptably well."
Crowley laughs at that.
"As if you weren't boring..." the angel keeps going.
"This isn't about being boring; it's about having a minimum of dignity."
"There's nothing undignified about having a bit of fun. I'm going to copy some of these tricks."
"As if we needed that" Crowley looks disapprovingly, but he can't help but smile.
"How does it affect you if I try some new tricks?!"
He sighs without responding to that.
"Maybe this time it will amaze you" the angel insists.
"Or maybe not."
"It amuses me that it bothers you so much..." he squeezes his hand a little.
"Why?"
"Because... it's just a game, and in your opinion, it must seem like I make too much of a fool of myself."
"Because you do."
"You say that just because you know I can perform a real miracle."
"Of course!"
"That's not skill, and the grace of magic that I like is... the performance."
"And you think you don't overact either" answers with sarcasm. I can't believe you're daring to say that, Mr. Drama Queen.
When they bring the menu, Crowley lets go of his hand even if he doesn't... plan to eat, or maybe the same thing as him, he doesn't care much.
When he lets go, Aziraphale picks up his hand, touching it a bit with the other, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, acting a bit silly... despite how horrible he's telling him (drama!)
"Well, overacting is a bit part of the trick. Being draaaaamatic like you, or haaaaappy and full of energy" he does a bit of overacting.
"Look, I believed you when you said people die singing in opera because it's a lybrical resource or whatever it's called; I'm not going to believe this."
"Lyrical" he laughs heartily at this.
"That's what I said."
"You said lybrical, my dear" he smiles.
"Well, that."
Aziraphale smiles at him, looking at him with little heart eyes that he struggles to hide. He smiles back because he looks so cute when he's delighted.
"Would you like to eat something?" he asks very softly a few seconds later.
"Whatever you want" he looks at the menu. The angel still looks at him a bit more before looking at the menu, smiling.
"I think you should try the duck."
"As a comedic resource or as food?" he smiles.
As an individual who fell into your tub and whom you called a rubber duck a while ago, Aziraphale thinks to himself, blushing a bit.
"As both" he decides.
"Alright, duck it is" he smiles.
"And I think the occasion calls for some Champagne..." he looks at the wine list.
"Let's see..." he approaches to see what options there are. He turns the menu a bit so Crowley can look at it "How about..." he points to one that seems good.
"Sounds good" Aziraphale nods in agreement.
"Alright" he smiles and leans back again as if he were a sweater that someone has just taken off and thrown on the chair, looking for the waiter.
The angel glances at him with that posture, and... truth be told, although he complains about it, Crowley wouldn't be Crowley if he sat up straight without sprawling. He closes the menu carefully and puts it on the table, moving his leg a bit so that it lightly touches the demon's.
Crowley lets him do it, causing the waiter to forget whatever he was doing and look at them with that finger-snapping trick.
"You know people can come alone when you call them if you wait a bit, right? There's no need..."
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned" he mocks, dropping his head a bit towards Aziraphale, smiling when the waiter approaches, smiling.
"Hello, young man. Good night to you."
"Good evening, have you taken their order yet?"
"Not yet, but if you'd be so kind to do it..."
"What do you fancy?"
"Look, we were thinking of two duck confits. This one with figs. Bring us also asparagus to accompany, and... A little bottle of Krug Clos du Mesnil..."
The waiter carefully notes it down, nodding, then looks at Crowley, who is just there listening.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asks, noticing the glasses, raising a hand to point at his face. Aziraphale looks at the guy and then at Crowley.
"Of course, it's just that I'm a demon" he responds so casually.
Aziraphale shoots him a look with that, and the guy just laughs, thinking he's joking, of course, and leaves.
"No one believes you" Aziraphale smiles a bit. "Because you hardly ever seem like a demon."
"Of course they don't believe me" Crowley shrugs. "They don't want to."
"And you're not doing anything demonic. Eating duck and drinking champagne... with someone very unlike you."
"If you told them you were an angel..."
"They wouldn't believe me either."
Crowley smiles a little sideways, thinking he's not entirely agreeing with how soft and sweet he is, but he prefers not to say it.
"Even less would they believe that I'm here with a demon."
"Well, nobody would have belived that, not even..." he gestures with his eyebrows, looking at the ceiling.
"It seems that precisely... she knows everything there is to know about both of us" he smiles a bit.
"Mmmm..."
"Or she would if she would focus. Which I don't expect to happen."
"One of those angels... what's his name? The one who looks like he hasn't gone to the bathroom in a week despite being a supernatural being..." Crowley thinks about it for a moment. "No, wait, I'm going to have to be more specific..."
"Are you saying we all look like..." he smiles a bit more with that description.
"Those who were there on the day of... the cremation, I don't know" he makes a hand gesture. "They said something. I wanted to ask you about it."
"What did they say?"
"Something about a... boyfriend?"
"One of them has a boyfriend?" he raises his eyebrows.
"Yours. Mine, at that moment since I was there" he explains as they serve them the champagne.
"W-What?"
"Well, I have no idea, I was hoping you'd clarify for me" he raises his glass, toasting with him.
"What did they exactly say? That I... have a boyfriend?" he also toasts without paying much attention.
"Yes. And apparently, something was going to happen to him as well, I don't know if after you."
Aziraphale blinks.
"Did they give any details of...? I mean, I don't have anyone close in heaven for them to think..."
"No, they just said that, not to worry too much because something was going to happen to him as well."
Aziraphale moistens his lips and looks at him, Crowley glances at him, a bit over the glasses.
"I think... it was just a figure of speech."
"A... rather curious figure of speech."
Aziraphale sighs, furrowing his brow a bit with all this, thinking.
Crowley looks at him sideways and furrows his brow too, noticing that Aziraphale does. What does that mean? That it's true? That he's got... or had if the poor person had run the same fate as he did, without having... well, a Plan B like them.
At that moment, it seemed like an unfortunate and mocking comment, but maybe he meant something. What if he just gave him the good news that heaven had killed his lover?
Wait! And since when did he have a lover and hadn't told him anything? Weren't they friends?
And the problem here was that... it's not like Aziraphale didn't know them, and it's not like he didn't know that heaven and hell were just two sides of the same coin. However, the idea of a lifetime of being on the side of the good was fading more and more until it was almost extinct.
It's not like he expected any display of emotion when deciding that what the rules said was that they should kill him... but to inform him of THAT among the last things to say before dying was... cruel.
And that hell was completely cruel did not seem strange to him, but... this was beyond cruel.
You can see on the demon's face how the drama and tragedy are forming as the silence persists. What the hell was he doing trying to kiss him less than half an hour ago?! And how long has this been going on right in front of his nose? It must be from when he slept for a whole century. Surely it was from when he learned to dance that stupid dance at that stupid gay club.
The only thing here was that... of course, Gabriel and the others knew. Or believed to know something, which surely was not at all, remotely close to what was really happening. Even less to what he REALLY felt for Crowley. And... suddenly, at this point, he cared less and less if they ever knew what he really felt for him.
So... still with a furrowed brow, he turns to look at him determinedly. Come on. If someone wanted to hear it, they were going to hear it.
Crowley devours the duck in about three seconds, unloading some of the frustration on it.
"Well, what you should have told them then is that you are MUCH more than my boyfriend. You are just... part of me. Enough so that they couldn't burn me." Come on, choke on your duck.
Yes, that's what happens. Crowley almost chokes, or rather, he chokes altogether. Coughing exaggeratedly.
Aziraphale takes his cutlery, as if he had NOT said anything of all that, and as if Crowley were not choking.
He starts making hand gestures as if he were choking, making someone approach and do one of those maneuvers that are done with someone trying to get the piece of food that is choking them, not only out, but even from the lungs. If possible, the piece should even fall into someone's glass for a proper dramatic-comic effect.
There is quite a stir, someone shouts if there is a doctor in the room, people running around, there is a fistfight and people stealing food, surely someone takes a good prize in the slot machines for poetic balance. Nothing is burning yet, but give it a minute.
Aziraphale keeps eating without batting an eye.
I apologize, there is the piece of duck in your glass. The chaos begins to dissipate a bit, there are sirens in the distance, and honestly, someone even applauds.
He takes a sip from the glass with the piece of duck. I'm sorry, Crowley, these are the minutes of an angry angel, you're missing out on them. When the drama slowly fades away, he can finally ask.
"What... the hell?
"And you say I overreact..." he glances at him, eating another piece of duck.
"Don't change the subject!"
"I'm angry."
"What?"
"Not with you, my dear. Not at all."
"What does that have to do with... all of this?"
"Everything. Nothing. Are you okay?" Aziraphale looks into his eyes, trying to ignore what he said because he's angry. But... he won't be angry forever, so... he hesitates a bit.
"No! What the hell... I mean... what... What?"
"I don't think you need many more explanations..." he wipes his mouth with a napkin, eyes closed.
"I think I do need a few!"
Aziraphale clears his throat, and Crowley looks at him intensely, although the angel doesn't dare to look back.
"Okay... I'm going to ask for a bloody paper bag, in case you vomit from the speed" he teases a bit but gives in.
"What speed, Crowley?"
"The speed of tectonic plates, apparently" eye roll.
"Maybe it's time..."
He looks at him intensely again, then the lights go out, and the colored laser effects and dry ice smoke start on the stage, while a canned voice announces the magician according to the exact text of Aziraphale's brochure; it seems like he's reading it under the effects of crack.
"No fucking way!" Crowley protests.
Aziraphale touches his arm a little with his hand without looking at him, just to... calm him down a bit, and just for that, not to stop time, but he huffs.
You could have stopped it and kissed him. He approaches him a bit to speak to him during the show, of course.
"Look, Look... you like the cards."
FULMINATION. Anyway, this one seems like a professional magician, even though he's dressed so ridiculously, you can't see his tricks, and he keeps making jokes while doing them.
Not like the other idiot. Aziraphale is ECSTATIC.
Crowley sighs thinking this is a bore, but since heeeeeee likes it. At some point, though, in the middle of the show, the magician is doing a disappearance trick with a girl, and Crowley smiles, and... he snaps his fingers, sending her to the hotel lobby. Aziraphale just... knows his snaps.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing" he stops smiling if you at least want that to sound credible.
"Come on! As if I didn't know you."
"I'm just sitting here, watching the show" and he laughs with the magician's bewildered face who can't find the girl in his secret trapdoor.
"No way... Look! Look at the scared faces everyone has."
"Maybe it's part of the... show. The performance and all that."
"It's not, and you know it. Where did you send the girl?"
"Well, you should ask the magician that, who, by the way, is in full show must go on mode without worrying at all" Crowley responds and decides to start making all the tricks COME OUT but make them REAL, not with the-other-handkerchief-hidden-in-his-sleeve or the-secret-mechanism-that-activates-the-box... etcetera, just because he loves the idiotic look on the poor man's face who doesn't understand a damn thing.
"You're not going to tell me this man isn't good..." Aziraphale argues, now very convinced of the absolute wonders they are witnessing.
"He seems... a bit surprised."
"And you not at all."
"Why would I be? It's clear that all of this is a trick."
"And are you going to tell me that it shows? He's very good!"
"Well, it doesn't show, but... he fails in the act..." suddenly, before he can finish the sentence, a spotlight comes on Crowley as if extraterrestrials were about to abduct him. Or worse yet, if he had a celestial audience. Yes, dear, you're the next involuntary-volunteer. The demon, in fact, raises his eyebrows unbelievably at this while the magician encourages him to go up, shaking his sparkling glitter cape. Crowley has seen disco balls less bright than that cape.
"Heavens..." the angel whispers.
"No, no, really, let him go up if he wants" Crowley protests to the magician, pointing at Aziraphale, the angel, in fact... would have preferred it to be him; it would have made him much happier.
"Please" the magician asks, making people applaud. "I promise we'll return him in one piece."
Crowley looks at Aziraphale sideways. But no, it's Crowley's turn, so Aziraphale smiles at him a little and makes a gesture for him to go.
"I don't promise he'll end up in one piece" Crowley mutters, squeezing his eyes shut and getting up.
"Come on, even though you've NEVER wanted to be my magician's assistant."
The fulmination before ten seconds of hip swinging from someone who's heard of arms and legs but has never tried them. Although he has an aunt in Wales who has a knee, and once, when he was little, she show it to him.
The magician makes everyone applaud again, in the show world, being an audience, just existing is enough for them to applaud you. Not even the dumbest person could mess that up.
Well, he's never wanted to be his assistant, and he DOES. Aziraphale frowns a bit... jealous.
"Thank you, thank you for joining us tonight; your name is..." the magician continues as he gets up.
"Anthony" he hisses after hesitating for a moment, rolling his eyes at... the universe, apparently.
"Anthony! I love your glasses, Anthony, but isn't it a bit dark to wear them, or do you have conjunctivitis?"
"It's because I'm a bloody demon" he answers with the most fake and forced smile he can muster, not even trying to make it look real. Of course, everyone laughs with that, including the magician.
"A very funny one, no doubt" the magician continues "And tell me, Anthony... are you married? Can demons get married?"
Aziraphale smiles with that question. Crowley hesitates for a second with that question, looks at the angel for a moment, and...
"In fact, yes" finger snap, and a ring appears on his hand and another on Aziraphale's.
Omg! Aziraphale... looks at him with his mouth wide open. Married to whom? (Sorry, but he hasn't noticed the ring yet)
"Great, let me guess, on a business trip with the wife at home, don't worry, this isn't broadcast on television. You won't be the first... or the last" the magician makes the easy joke, and people laugh again.
"No!" Aziraphale protests.
"In fact, no. I'm here on vacation with him. He's sitting right here in the front row."