He still manages to... turn them all off. Thank goodness these devices are so user-friendly. Crowley is so content and happy and proud. Look at how I managed everything.
What exactly did you manage?
Well, some alarms I see around.
Of course, of course.
Or maybe he cancelled other things. The appointments in the calendar. Watch out, Crowley... you'll regret this day for years to come.
Hmm... Seeing what he's doing. Nah. I don't think so. Not even with that. I mean... that's four times.
Four? Four times?! Really?!
Yes. And this fifth one is surprisingly more difficult. It's like it's not... Like it's not anymore.
Well, it's not! (The infinite scandal! Let's go...)
It's interesting. I didn't know that happened like this. This is very... educational.
I wish it had been educational with your own body! Or at least with him there!
How was he going to learn how Aziraphale's body responds with his own body?
Ah... ah. Heavens.
The thing is, after the fifth time, because he's stubborn... he no longer feels like it, and for the response he's gotten, it hasn't been worth the effort.
Most likely, in his body now, he'd feel very sleepy, but... no. What this body craves now is a lot of raw fish.
Sushi. So you can start to realise what he'll need if you do this to him.
It's all about learning. He'd also settle for chocolate, apparently. Although he refuses to mix them for ethical reasons.
You can make a nice plan that includes sushi... and chocolate if you want. There must be a fridge around, right?
Is there sushi in the fridge? Wait... do fridges serve any purpose other than for alcohol? Since when has heaven been withholding this kind of information from him? What other secrets are there to discover out there?
I don't think there's sushi as such.
Well, you should talk to him a bit sometimes, you'd be surprised. There must be some smoked salmon in a little package.
Okay. Let's get dressed and go for dinner like civilized people. He makes a gesture to get his phone to check where and rolls his BLOODY EYES.
Give him one. It's the best I can offer.
Aziraphale must have a mobile phone tucked away in some drawer. He's sure he has one because he gave it to him. It was his old one.
It must be there used as a paperweight.
And he wasn't going to throw it away because he gave it to him or because it had a picture of some puppies as a background, either version is good.
Maybe he's using it as a photo frame if you gave him a stand for it to charge.
He snaps his fingers to give battery to anything that doesn't have it and needs it around, because he's sure it doesn't have it...
And then he goes in search of the landline phone that has a... wheel... to... dial. Seriously. A wheel. The ones that spin around. He thanks God that at least it's not a heap of straw and a blanket he has to do this with.
And... diiiiaaals the ONLY phone number in the world he knows by heart without needing his own phone. He dials it after an hour of spinning the wheel like an idiot.
What's wrong with it?, come on, it's just the wheel!
It rings inside the drawer. Bingo.
There he finds it, with the message he sent him like five days ago unread. It was a little cake... a little cake emoji.
So cute. I saw a little cake and thought of you.
No. He asked him to send him a message and he was sitting right there in front of him, so he sent him a little cake. He goes to see him just to leave it on seen, tilts his head, and decides to reply to himself with a glass of whiskey.
Crowley is going to jump in his house... because there are no things beeping everywhere, right?
He thinks he still has it in his pocket. So he takes it out, puts it back in.
The trousers?
Yes. He won't understand.
Oh, well... nothing. The other one is looking up the best sushi place in Soho on Google Maps. While he snaps everything back into place and then remembers he shouldn't do that. Damn. Not even swear. Bollocks!
Miguel was already starting to suspect something... he's sure... Maybe he could do some good deeds or something on the way to the restaurant.
Several good deeds please, darling. You have to do like... a thousand good deeds.
Let's see, let's see... good deeds... he's SUPER OUT OF SHAPE for this.
A braid of good deeds.
He could help an old lady cross the street... but where would he find an old lady who wanted to go to the other side of the street?
Get a cat down from a tree... but for that he also needed a cat. And obviously a tree. And preferably the cat had gotten there on its own if he didn't want to start with the count in the negative.
Don't put the cat up there to take it down!
He's weighing the moral implications of bringing about a good deed through a bad one.
When he decides to go for a look like... Cuban drug dealer mafia boss, all dressed in white linen. Hat included.
And go out on the street... he needs some sunglasses too.
I love the mafia-dressed look. He's NEVER dressed like that. And sunglasses? DON'T PUT ON sunglasses. When have you ever seen him with sunglasses?
Someone should tell him, you're not supposed to be youself in Aziraphale's body. You're supposed to be Aziraphale!This isn't a demonic possession, dear.
(Aziraphale also wonders how he can still walk after FOUR times)
(Because he hasn't put anything in there).
(P-Put... wah! ok, that was unnecessary... Ugh, always asking without expecting trauma of these dimensions)
Okay, okay, okay... back to the bookshop and out the same... but with sunglasses. And the bow tie. The darn sweaty bow tie.
I don't know why he thinks the bow tie brings down your Cubano-mafioso style.
Because he's not supposed to dress like a Cuban with the bow tie. He could stick to the classic style of... you know? Okay. Okay... really. Go on, dear.
Alriiiight, alriiiiiight. He puts on the bloody trench coat.
Thank you.
Mafioso-Cuban-drug-dealer-nerd-exhibitionist style.
As if he didn't already have a heartbreaker rock-star outfit!
Aziraphale? No. But it's nice of you to think so.
No! Talk about Crowley! And it wasn't a compliment!
Well. The point here is that we're going for bloody dead fish.
Is he going to Aziraphale's favourite restaurant?
He's going to Google maps' favourite restaurant which might be the same or not.
Well. He might find him there or not. In fact, maybe he's already there and he can choose whether to go in or not. Let's allow him free will. Because Crowley... seriously he's picking his eyes out at home and he's SURE that... well, ehm... Aziraphale won't go for sushi if he doesn't like it.
You need to... learn to use electronic devices, angel, really.
Why? Would he have found another sushi place near Crowley's place?
No, you could have entertained yourself. Well, don't distract us, we were with the good deeds.
Ahh... what a disaster. Yes, but come on, keep doing good deeds.
Ahem.
Maybe he's taken the iPad there to show it to him, huh? Or for someone to explain it to him, but go on, go on... Get the cat out of the tree. We'll see you here.
He's not going to get the cat out of the tree. In fact, it's incredible how deserted the trees in London are. Especially of cats. He's not going to stand there waiting in the rain for a stupid cat to do what it's supposed to do.
You never know... but then, what beautiful deed is he going to do?
Who knows!? No one needs anything!
Now it turns out you CAN'T do good deeds.
It's not that I can't, it's that no one needs anything!
Alright, alright, alright... it's a matter of demand to do good deeds, there's not a single bit of rubbish on the ground to pick up.
No. It's a matter of perspective. I mean, look at this rat running to get into a storm drain. It could carry diseases and poison half the city. Killing it could be a good deed. But from the rat's point of view, that's probably just being a heartless son of a bitch.
Picking up litter from the ground, inspiring a drunkard to go home and turn his life around.
Well... yes, those would seem like good deeds at first, but let's say all the rubbish disappears from Soho. All the rubbish from London... and then all the cleaners and binmen would be out of a job. Broken families, children unable to go to school, evictions... besides, it's not like Aziraphale goes around the streets disappearing rubbish and... he had to resemble himself in something.
As for the drunkard... well, he could sober him up, of course, but how could he know if this was a habitual behaviour and not a celebration, maybe he had just had something good happen to him... or perhaps he sobers him up and then convinces his wife that he's not a drunkard and she doesn't divorce him until the next time he comes home to rape and kill her.
Plus, sometimes... just that. Any action he tried to undertake ended up triggering a series of unfortunate consequences that led to a worse problem by definition. Many times even creating inconveniences for himself.
Surely Aziraphale was the opposite, he reflects as he looks through the phone, he could trigger a series of joys in general just by making a small decision. Surely in his case, picking up litter wouldn't just make the city cleaner and nicer, it would allow the binmen to go home early to dinner with their families and attend their children's birthdays... and surely the drunkard would rehabilitate himself, finally learning how alcohol was destroying his family life and... because of it, he had lost his job, but now he would study and get it back or something like that.
We're watching you trying to get out of doing something good just to avoid the Butterfly Effect... besides, with a good argument. Ugh! Alright!
Like... this. Wait a moment. What was happening now on Twitter? Everyone was posting videos of the cross on the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral spinning around as if Jesus Christ had suddenly decided to do some exercises on the rings.
And everyone was attributing it to a divine sign that they should increase their faith. Why did everyone think that if God were to send a sign of peace and love it would be by spinning the cross like a compass over a magnet?
Nooooo!
Aziraphale blinks a couple of times not understanding what was happening to the world and sighs. This would be easier with the cat. There's no way to mess up a cat taken down from a tree.
Unless the owner turned out to be an animal abuser and the cat was running away...
Surely you'll never come across one anyway.
Anyway, where is this damn Chinese place? He takes a turn around himself because he should have arrived by now. Looks out the window to see what people are eating, should it be this?
You've seen him before... chopsticks, rice, slices of gelatinous fish on top. Crowley is there making an angelic effort to be sprawled in the seat and to see SOMETHING with sunglasses at this hour. Earlier he even ate a napkin thinking it was a ball of rice.
The problem is that Aziraphale doesn't... recognise himself because it's like the last place in the world he'd go to... alone. And he's not thinking that the cool guy with sunglasses is Aziraphale, first because he's sensorially programmed to look for blond curls and white clothes to associate with him and second because he's not thinking that well, he's going to look like him.
And he's so stupid to walk in anyway and sit down... back to back with Crowley's table.
He enters and sits at another table because... now that you want to do everything alone.
Exactly.
Lovely.
While he looks at his phone and he sprawls out as usual.
Don't sprawl out! It's taking him so much effort!
He's not thinking. That's the problem, although it's not like when he does this it turns out much better... he accidentally bumps into Crowley's chair on his back, apologizes, and then remembers to sit up straight.
Crowley, who honestly is waiting for ANY excuse to talk to SOMEONE, turns a bit to see if this will lead to a conversation.
"It's small in here, isn't it?"
Although Aziraphale is still on the phone. Seriously. More memes about spinning crosses and fewer prayers. This is stup... he comes out of his thoughts, turns around, and now he recognizes the voice and... the body.
"Oh... fuck."
Crowley's blush. Followed by absolute embarrassment. And an infinite frown. He opens his mouth to say something and stays like that for a few seconds without saying anything until he closes it and turns back to his table.
Aziraphale also turns forward, tense, pretending not to know him at all... that he hasn't even seen him, really.
"What are you doing here, angel?" Aziraphale murmurs looking at his phone. "You're not supposed to..."
"Me? What are YOU doing here?" Crowley hisses, looking at the remnants of food on his plate.
"Your body is hungry, isn't this what you do all the time?" the angel protests.
"And since when do you care what I do all the time?" he sounds so irritated and angry that he would almost sound like Crowley for real.
"I'm supposed to act like you. Do you have the water already?" Aziraphale turns a bit and then turns back forward again.
"Of course I have the water. Unlike you, I've been doing u-useful t-things."
"Anyway, you didn't have to come here. What was I supposed to come here for?" eye roll.
"There's NOTHING to do in your b-bloody house... horrible that screams every two minutes."
Aziraphale blinks several times.
"There are like five entertainment centres in my house, angel. With unlimited access to practically any form of entertainment imaginable."
"You have NOTHING to eat and I assumed you would definitely NOT come here today! What unlimited entertainment centres?!" Crowley turns to look at him... blushes and turns back again.
"Well, I wouldn't have come if you weren't hungry all the time. The TV, the music system, the computer, the tablet, the console..."
"It's IMPOSSIBLE to turn on the TV! And everything screams like hell every ten minutes. Nothing in your house is remotely normal. Nor you, really."
"What the hell is screaming?"
"Apparently everything that can scream."
Aziraphale looks at him a bit over his shoulder without understanding that.
"Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep!" Crowley mimics the sound very tense, looking forward.
"Ah! It's the alarm from The g-golden... uh... a show I watch," he coughs turning forward and changing his position in the seat. "I wish someone would buy it already and put it on streaming..." he protests.
Crowley turns to look at him now and he's just so cute and sweet that it makes him smile a little.
"You don't need to go deaf to watch a show."
"I'm not going deaf. You just need to stop the alarm. But sometimes I fall asleep and..."
"Clearly that must wake you up," he looks at him... and blushes, turning away again.
"Exactly," he smiles, playing with the wooden chopsticks.
"You don't have a single book."
Aziraphale licks his lips and squirms because he does have them, but Crowley hasn't found them.
"Of course not, why would I?"
"I've given you books!"
"Do you think I don't know that?"
"Well, I'm not going to give you any more!"
"Thank goodness!"
"No books or anything!"
The waiter approaches Aziraphale's table to see what they'll have and upon seeing their conversation, he suggests that they sit together.
"No! We don't want to. I don't know him. I've never seen him. He just hit my chair!" Crowley exclaims.
Aziraphale gives a fake smile. He doesn't really care what to eat, he just wants... his hunger to pass. He looks at the menu because the Japanese words don't help.
"A sashimi." Crowley whispers
"A... Sashashimishis," he repeats with a couple more letters than necessary due to nerves, and glances at Crowley to see if he needs to order anything else.
"Tempura shrimp. And a bottle of dry sake." the demon adds
"Shrimp in temperature and a bottle of dry saqué," Aziraphale mutters.
The waiter blinks a bit and takes note of the order.
"I'm glad you're trying something different from the usual, Aziraphale-san," he assures him with a smile.
"That's me. A born adventurer," Aziraphale hands him the menu. Crowley blushes a bit at that comment, and the waiter leaves, of course.
"Stop talking nonsense!" the demon whispers when he's gone.
"What nonsense? I just said what you did!"
"A born adventurer?" Crowley looks at him sideways again.
"Apparently, I'm being innovative today."
"I come here on Thursdays, not Wednesdays."
"Well... what a revolution." the sarcasm.
Crowley huffs a bit exasperated, and Aziraphale chuckles.
"So, what have you done this afternoon?" the demon asks, blushing considerably and turning completely to his table.
"Nothing... you know... I was at the bookshop. You don't have anything interesting there, so I opened a bottle of wine and, oh! here came..." he gestures with his hands to indicate how she had her hair up. "What's her name?"
"Michael?! W-What?"
"To scold you. I was talking to her," he gives a nervous little smile because he's still not sure if he was entirely convincing.
"Heavens! And what did she say?"
"Well... what we said, that a few days had passed and you still hadn't... done anything."
"Oh, goodness! Did she realize?"
"About..." he makes a finger gesture to illustrate the change from one to another.
"Yes!"
"No... I don't think so, well. I'm extremely convincing with my little nice person act."
"And you also have a big mouth."
"I think I would have noticed if she had realized," he replies, clearing his throat because... he does have one.
"I hope so. What else did she say?"
"Well... several things, actually," he smiles sideways.
"What things?!" Crowley turns completely towards him.
"That..." Aziraphale no, still facing forward.
"Mhmm?"
"I told her that you had discarded exorcisms because it wouldn't work less if holy water didn't work."
"Mhmm..."
"And I told her that... you planned to try to gain my trust to pry out what my weak spot is now then."
"Oh... mhmm."
"Oh?" he glances at him sideways.
"Did... it seem reasonable to her?"
"She said that..." he checks what he's doing to see if he's eating and they indeed bring his food.
You want him to choke... He's having his last sips.
Nah, just a little.
"You're in love with me," he declares, and Crowley chokes.
"What... cough... what?!"
"Well... practically in those exact words."
"I didn't... cough-cough-cough... I didn't! How could Michael tell you that?!" he continues coughing a bit, to be honest. But he turns back to his table again.
"Hey, this is good!" Aziraphale smiles, enjoying the sushi he was craving as if Crowley wasn't making a big fuss.
Come on, give him two seconds to de-traumatize because Michael told him... not that he didn't know, but one thing is knowing it because he knows it, and another is MICHAEL telling him.
Nah, he's enjoying his perplexity and all that, pretending not to care.
"It seems to be tremendously obvious to everyone..." the angel comments.
"It's not at all... T-This..." Crowley lets out a breath, crossing his arms and hating Michael and the whole heaven... and feeling guilty about it, sincerely. But it's just, for god's sake... he usually tried NOT to think about Crowley when he was near them, but lately... it seemed impossible.
Aziraphale turns to look at him, he's all flushed.
"What did you answer to that?" the demon asks, and the angel smiles.
"That... no, of course not. It's what you always say."
Crowley sighs. Aziraphale glances at him sideways and furrows his brow a bit.
"Thank you..." the demon mutters a bit despondently.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Crowley. All this..."
"What?"
"Well, it probably has a lot to do with... this matter of killing each other."
"Well, it has to do because we would never have managed to outwit death if not" rolling his eyes.
"If... they didn't believe that I'm, erm... well, that...?" he glances at him sideways.
"Eh?"
"You mean if they didn't believe that I... erm... I'm... what you said, that I'm not! Do you think we wouldn't have outwitted death?"
"If we weren't friends. We would never have swapped, so they would have killed us."
Crowley stares at him intensely because one thing is being friends, and another very different thing is being IN LOVE with him.
"Okay, okay... friends. For convenience."
"Colleagues. Neighbours. Simple acquaintances. Distant. In fact, I barely know your name," rolling his eyes. Don't worry, Michael will come to make fun of you for telling her that Crowley wants you back and you'll be amazed.
"People who like to do things alone, that's it," passive-aggressively... in action.
"You don't. Five minutes alone and apparently you have to go to the damn restaurant... At least we can switch back now..."
"You look for solitude, it seems..." Crowley says, continuing in the passive-aggressive tone. "Well... yes, let's change back."
"Me? Look for solitude?" Aziraphale glances at him sideways and pulls back the hand that's more hidden to take his.
Crowley squeezes it a bit, and Aziraphale looks at him sideways because it was to make the switch.
Alright, alright... we all thought the same thing, but there he is, so happy. He even gives him a little affection.
Aziraphale smiles a bit and returns it because he seemed super angry just now. He was until you took his hand.
Crowley hesitates, thinking again about what he saw a while ago... and moistens his lips to ask him. But he doesn't even know what to ask.
Aziraphale waits for the change to start because now it seems a bit anticlimactic to do it himself.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Come on... let's make the change and then I'll explain a couple of things to you."
"Alright..." the angel responds not very sure. The demon squeezes his hand, and... there it goes, the change again.
Crowley shakes his head and moves his shoulders once he's back in place.
Aziraphale sits up straight, adjusting his posture a bit and... truth be told, very discreetly touches his groin to see if everything's in place.
It is... it is. You haven't broken it. It might be more sensitive though.
He blushes a bit again now that he's here because... heavens. Crowley has done WEIRD things with his body... (Without him, he thinks again).
"How much have you had to drink?" Aziraphale asks a bit surprised.
"Uh... not that much, come on, just a couple of glasses."
"I see, I see."
"Your friend, who is unbearable." The demon explain, refering to Michael.
"She's not my friend," Aziraphale assures, opening and closing his mouth a bit and shaking his head and hands still." Well..."
"Don't tell me! That one I really didn't expect, although with how easy it was for me to get the title..."
"I highly doubt you've become more of her friend..." rolling his eyes.
"Why not? Apparently, I'm good at seducing angels."
"Crowley!" Aziraphale opens his mouth and raises his eyebrows.
"I didn't say it," the demon raises his hands innocently, smiling. "And don't shout my name like that or if someone knows we're here, we're going to have to start a fight to the death."
"Alright, alright!" he whispers again, squeezing his eyes. "I went to the cathedral for your holy water."
"To the cathedral?"
"Yes. To St. Paul's."
"Oh... that explains a lot," he smiles sideways thinking about the spinning cross, taking a sip of whatever he was drinking.
Sake.
Alright, fine... although he raises his eyebrows because later he complains about strong drinks.
"What things?"
"What have you done with my phone?" Crowley asks, searching for it.
"Ah... nothing."
"I mean, where did you put it?"
"It must be in your trousers. Right? I haven't taken it out from there. Ohhhh... maybe it's in your room," Aziraphale bites his lip.
"Are you serious?" the demon protests, rolling his eyes. "Just give me yours."
"Mine? Oh, dear... I have no idea where mine could be. It must be in the bookshop."
"It's in the left back pocket of your trousers."
"Really?" the angel raises his eyebrows and goes to look for it. "Wow... look. It even turns on and everything!"
"Yes. Go to Twitter."
Aziraphale hands it to him, and Crowley rolls his eyes but takes it. The waiter comes to bring another dish and blinks when he notices they've changed places and are half-turned towards each other but didn't want to occupy a table.
"Aziraphale-san, I would really ask you and your friend to sit together. We have people waiting outside."
"He's not my friend. I don't even know him!" he glances at Crowley sideways. "But if you sit us at a table further inside, we might be forced..."
"To fraternize," Crowley finishes the sentence. Yeah. Let's get over that issue.
"Alright, I have a reserved spot that's already paid... if you don't mind moving there..."
"Perfect" Aziraphale's SMILE.
The waiter nods, thinking that way he frees up two tables. He already knew he would agree; Mr. Fell is usually very kind. Although it was the first time he saw him with a friend who wasn't made of paper.
"Look, read" Crowley hands him the Twitter with the hashtag that's already trending topic in London #SpinningCross.
"I'll follow him. Mr. Longstockings will come now."
He takes the phone and follows the waiter... raising his eyebrows.
"Ohhh... I... but it wasn't a miracle like that!"
"Well, it's causing a stir. I hope no one saw you," Crowley replies, following him without paying attention.
"Uh... well..."
The waiter shows them the traditional Japanese booth behind a million paper screens with a low table and cushions.
"Oh, how beautiful. Why haven't you offered me this place before?!"
"It's for at least two people."
Crowley coughs, hiding his laughter with that response.
"Oh... alright," the angel wrinkles his mouth, entering and sitting down.
There goes Crowley behind, looking at the cushions so neatly arranged and Aziraphale sitting so straight on the floor.
"We should have eaten here... bring us another bottle of Sake, please, Mr. Hennant," he smiles.
The demon sits next to him, and as soon as his butt touches the floor, he starts moving because NO. If chairs are already hard for him... he stretches his legs. Then gathers them. Puts them sideways. Takes the cushions and puts them on the other side, leaning against them. He straightens up.
The waiter nods and goes to get it. Aziraphale looks at him and smiles sideways.
"This is comfortable, isn't it?"
"Shut up. It must be damn consecrated," he protests, trying three more positions. Aziraphale laughs.
"Sit on a cushion."
"I'm already on a cushion," he looks at him.
"It doesn't seem like it... look, put your legs like this," he leans in a bit, puts a hand on his leg. "Bend them back, with the cushion under you. Lean on them... and straighten your back."
"Hmmm... better lean that way."
"Eh?"
"That way," he gestures with his hands for him to move.
Aziraphale furrows his brow a bit and moves a LOT. Blushing a bit more.
Crowley smiles, adjusts the cushions, and stretches out on them with his head on Aziraphale's lap, stretching his legs a bit.
"You're the softest cushion."
Aziraphale raises his eyebrows and blushes a bit more again, although... he almost immediately puts a hand on his hair for a second.
"Are you calling me chubby?" he asks, smiling sideways.
"Yes. Exactly. Now get offended but don't move," he closes his eyes.
"As if your bones don't bury," he rolls his eyes.
"Na na na na na," he doesn't move.
"Hmm... There's a... thing."
"Hmm?"
"I was very convinced of my personification of the worst Crowley..."
"And you ended up increasing the faith of all London. You're going to have to give it back. For balance."
"Yeah, yeah... we'll see," he squints his eyes. "But, uh... I went out and about. By the way, your car is maddening when it wants..."
"Don't tell me..."
"There's no need for those levels of sarcasm, dear."
"Well, it seems like you think it's only out to get you."
"I would think you have more control... like with your house."
"What the hell has my house done to you? It's just an apartment."
"It's incomprehensible!"
"There's nothing incomprehensible."
"Maybe one day... well... I don't know. Maybe one day I'll understand," he changes his mind, clearing his throat. "Coming out of the cathedral..."
"If you would just LISTEN for five bloody minutes, you wouldn't have any problems, don't act like an idiot now."
Aziraphale glances at him, Crowley keeps turning from side to side all the time, but without moving away from on top of him, and the waiter returns with the sake.
"I do listen to you, but they're too many complicated instructions. At least I managed to use the tablet!" he looks at the waiter and tenses up a little because... well, Crowley is WAY too close to him.
The waiter leaves, thinking that they definitely are not friends. They don't even know each other, EVEN LESS.
"How scary..."
"Oh, come on, as if you didn't do exactly the same thing when I explain why you shouldn't end English sentences with a preposition. You still use them!"
"You're not comparing this to grammar that makes no sense!"
"It's exactly the same. Thank you," he smiles a little at the sake man, hoping he leaves quickly, he nods and goes away. Aziraphale relaxes when he leaves, honestly.
"It has absolutely nothing to do with it," Crowley continues protesting, not sure if he noticed someone came in.
"It has everything to do with it, but okaaay, okay. The point here is that coming out of the cathedral..." he insists, a little uncomfortable with this topic. "I... thought of coming to... tell you."
"To tell me? By the way, what did you do with the holy water?"
"It's at your house. Inside a bottle from the police. Inside a plastic bag."
"No tartan thermos this time?" Crowley feigns a pout, nodding.
"Please BE CAREFUL. I dried it as much as I could and..." he glances at him. "Yes. I had to improvise. In a somewhat... unorthodox manner. But I think you would improvise more or less in that way."
Crowley looks at him from below because that sounds like he dives into situations with a semi-plan and a lot of faith, and... damn, he knows him well.
"An encounter with a policeman... blame the parked car there, halfway down the street. It's certainly much simpler to park where you're supposed to, just so you know."
"Sure, sure, the first times it's easy to think that."
"So you thought about it at some point..."
"No!"
"Ha!" he smiles sideways.
"The first times I had to park, there wasn't even a traffic code..."
"The first times you parked when there was. You were tempted to park where it WAS!"
Rolls his eyes and stands up a bit because he wants alcohol. And he has smelled it. He knows it's there. Aziraphale makes a movement to prevent him... that he stops halfway. Ahem.
"What?"
"N-Nothing," caught. YOU WANT him to be lying there on your lap! "I'm going to order dessert... what I mean to tell you is that we went through a lot of trouble towards Soho."
"And?" he pours himself some alcohol in a glass before lying back down, listening.
"And we reached Soho," he makes a semi-cute hair gesture again. Very subtle. This time Crowley notices, but he's not going to protest about it, of course.
"You shouldn't have come to Soho..."
Aziraphale stops. HE STOPS. Crowley sips his sake.
"Ohh..."
"Eh?" he looks at him over his glasses.
"So you really didn't want me to go to Soho."
"Well... again, if they had seen us... I don't even know exactly how I'm supposedly going to attack you."
"No, no. You wanted to be alone, without me."
"Eh?" He looks at him again. He looks... a bit nervous. He puts on his distressed smile. "Why on earth would I want to be alone?"
He looks... a bit nervous. He puts on his distressed smile.
"Why on earth would I want to be alone?"
"That's exactly what I'm wondering."
"It has to do with the matter of... killing each other."
"No."
"How so no?"
Aziraphale looks at him again. And the only other plausible explanation was that he simply did this daily. Like eating. And stuff.
Like he had done, going out to eat without asking him, he had done that...
"Ohh..."
"What? I don't understand anything!"
"Well, you could have told me you liked to do... that."
"I don't like it," eyes rolling. "Well, sometimes I do, but it's not..."
The angel blushes more because he just noticed that a very small part of his brain had made up this very human idea, between two people, being an obvious way to show affection and love... like humans. And maybe he had wished a liiiittle... for that closeness with Crowley. And Crowley, wasn't thinking about it like that.
"Well, it's not like I would do it all the time either. You're worse than me at that."
"What?" he tenses enough to pull back and stop being his pillow. "I don't do that!"
He falls back onto the floor, hitting his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
"I hadn't even thought about it! It was completely out of my ideas and desires. It's been your fault!"
"What?" he rubs his head where he hit it and sits up.
"You could have at least told me," he retorts, trying to rationalize this.
"But you already knew," he furrows his brow, not understanding.
"How was I supposed to know you liked... that? You hadn't told me about it. Do you... do you do it often with humans too? Heavens... is it part of your job description within the tempting thing?" note that he has no idea how to feel about this... again.
"What?" he blinks. "I'm talking about being left alone."
"What? We're not talking about that!"
"I don't know what you're talking about..."
"But..." Aziraphale blinks again. "Ugh! Forget it," he turns his face, blushing, uncomfortable, and with new weird ideas in his head.
"I'm not going to forget it, look at how you are. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I saw you today doing something that I didn't... I didn't know..."
Crowley blinks once... and then again... and then again.
"W-What?" his voice barely comes out.