One demon in particular, thinks the angel.

[ineffableangel]

Aziraphale can tell when the clouds knit together that the storm is a demon-binger. A demon-binger, for those unused to Aziraphale's world, is like a harbinger, only far more loud, dangerous, and unsubtle. Well, perhaps unsubtle is the wrong word. This demon can be very subtle when he wants to be

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[ineffableangel]

"If you're going to be sarcastic about it..." he said, a small pout forming on his mouth that was entirely ruined by the smile that Crowley's newly reinstated presence was causing.

"Well, we haven't been to the Ritz in quite some time. Perhaps that would be the best?" Aziraphale asked hopefully. He so missed the Ritz, although he wouldn't dream of going there without Crowley.

"You did that on purpose," he murmured. "Now I suppose I'm going to have find an American newspaper to find out what exactly my people are dealing with. Your wiles have such a distinct flavour, you know." Or rather he hoped they did. From what he could see, Crowley hadn't seemed changed, but actions said more than words sometimes. He thought it was his greatest fear that Crowley would go off and come back so changed he couldn't recognize him. And no small part of it was interest... attraction he wasn't entirely prepared to admit to himself. "At the very least I could do with some amusement. I'm sure you have interesting stories that you're simply waiting for the opportune moment to tempt my self with." Is that why they needed to be drunk? Aziraphale wondered. So he could find out through Crowley's stories if he was the same demon? Or so he could be a bit more open to the demon and blame it on the alcohol, when they mightn't remember?

A corner of his mouth tugged itself far up. "I heard that you even granted Rosie her wish. She was ever so pleased, but perhaps my ears were deceiving me."

[h8_ineffability]

"The Ritz, then. I didn't like any of the restaurants in LA, anyway," Crowley said, pulling the Bentley's keys back out of his pocket. He smirked a bit, tilting his head at Aziraphale. "They call it the City of Angels, you know. The irony kills me, or it would if I weren't immortal."

He tossed the keys idly from hand to hand, waiting for Aziraphale. "Of course I did it on purpose. Nobody else properly appreciates what I do. And no, your ears weren't deceiving you. I let her hug me. AND I didn't even grope her, aren't you proud of me?"

[ineffableangel]

Aziraphale smiled properly. "Yes, I am. Besides, if you'd groped her... do you remember what happened last time you groped a witch, Crowley?"

Aziraphale walked past the smirking demon, out the door and the slightly less-treacherous wind. A scatter of leaves - someone had been cleaning their small front garden again, and one poor dying plant had been cleaned up - raced down the street towards them. Not a one hit the angel as he walked through their wind-sped cloud, chatting away eagerly. "City of Angels? Did you meet any? Or dare I ask? And no good restaurants, I am shocked. Terribly shocked. No good wines then? I have heard there is a place in California with lovely vineyards."

He paused at the sidewalk and turned back to face Crowley. "You know, we are going to come home drunk again, aren't we? Which is good," he added quickly. "In that case you should know that I, er... There's no use in dropping me off at my flat." His cheeks turned pink, although his voice was steady.

[h8_ineffability]

"That doesn't count. She wouldn't have got away with that if I hadn't had to pretend I was human at the time," Crowley grumbled, following Aziraphale out. Each leaf that got too close to him spontaneously combusted.

"I'd be amazed if an angel was willing to get within fifty miles of LA, Aziraphale. And some of the restaurants were decent, I just didn't like them. Some okay wines, but apparently some fungus or other went through the vineyards in the area a few years ago, they're still working on regaining what they lost. Before you ask, not my fault. I'd never do that to potential alcohol," he said, reaching by Aziraphale to unlock the car door. He leaned casually against the side of the car, with absolutely no qualms about the fact that he was invading the angel's personal space.

"Of course we're coming home drunk. That's more than half the POINT, isn't it? ...You've given it to some homeless family or other again, haven't you, angel? Well, I suppose you can stay at my place... Just until your newest strays get back on their feet and OUT of your flat."

[ineffableangel]

"Ah..." He pondered telling Crowley that he was fine, actually, because there was a flat right above the bookshop available for his use, and that he could buy a proper place as soon as the poor couple paid him back, and... "That would be brilliant." He smiled happily.

No need to mention that he was selling the flat permanently either.

"I- yes. Gave it to a poor couple, but oh, don't smirk, you should have seen them, and she's expecting already..." Aziraphale was wearing a soft smile as he spoke, eyes warm and blue and centred utterly on Crowley. Who was entirely too close, he realized, halfway through his speech, as his hand brushed Crowley's hip and he blushed deeply. "My dear," he murmured, flustered, and backed against the car, cheeks still a dark pink. "Er. Yes. Drunk. Soon."

He gestured to the Bentley, which was no small feat considering he was wedged between the car and Crowley, who was still smirking. "Shall we get off then?"

((Flight to Toronto sooner or later, in which case updating will be sporadic until 28th or possibly 1st. Oh noes. On a side note: *worships your brilliance at Crowley*))

[h8_ineffability]

"You never change, do you, angel? Not really," Crowley said, amused. The smirk evidently found his face very comfortable indeed, and set up camp there to stay a while. A blushing Aziraphale was really quite adorable, he thought. In, of course, a disgustingly angelic way that no self-respecting demon would ever find endearing. The fact that he DID was absolutely beside the point and nobody's business, anyway.

"Get off?" he asked, the smirk getting, if anything, a little wider. "Now, I wonder, is that a Freudian slip, or are you really that blind to double-entendre?"

But Crowley had pity on his poor counterpart, and leaned back a bit, pulling the door open. "Get in, angel. Let's go get drunk."

((NOT a problem... Mun having personal problems of late, so pretty damn sporadic herself. In reference to the side note, thank you very much. ^_^))

[ineffableangel]

Aziraphale's cheeks were a very deep pink by now. The deepest pink, in fact, that anyone had ever seen, and one in fact that Adam was responsible for in the cosmetic type world - it had started off with a passing wish of Wensley's - although why an Antichrist would go around inventing the colour of an embarrassed angel's cheeks was no one's business.

"Ï just meant- You understand- Oh, well." He ducked his head, still glowing with embarrassment, and got in the car only somewhat gracefully. "Thank you," he added as an afterthought, cheeks now only magenta.

Well, really, Aziraphale thinking the demon's smirk was cute contributed to the blush. He suspected Crowley was aware of such a thing, though he rather hoped the demon hadn't noticed his stolen glances at the smirk in question. It curled at the corners, you see, and Aziraphale wondered what those corners would taste li- oh.

He looked away, suddenly aware that he really had been staring at the demon's face and perhaps other parts - but those pants were meant to - oh my. Peripherally he could even blame Crowley for sauntering like that around the car, and for wearing those nice pants, and for smirking like that, but he was an angel and shouldn't be noticing anyway. He kept turning his head away and then seeing a bit of Crowley reflect off a mirror and then he simply had to look at the being - it never did to be rude, he decided.

"And I'm all for the getting-drunk bit," he murmured as he watched Crowley slide into the seat beside him.