[Oh, good, they can get this messy business out of the way at last. It won't be a relief, not until the morning or whenever Heaven and Hell decide to make their moves (which will undoubtedly be at the same time, so very alike as they are, ultimately), but it's progress.
They do work so well together, after all. Aziraphale still finds a moment to run his fingers theough Crowley's hair with a curious little hum.]
You get trials?
[So, yes, things are actually quite grim. He moves right along, looking over his shoulder at where his coat was left earlier and quirking an eyebrow; a scrap of paper drifts out of his pocket and floats over for him to pluck it out of the air.]
I— or perhaps more accurately, our dear friend Agnes— had an idea. Look.
[Read this and come to the immediate obvious conclusion he did, dear.]
no subject
They do work so well together, after all. Aziraphale still finds a moment to run his fingers theough Crowley's hair with a curious little hum.]
You get trials?
[So, yes, things are actually quite grim. He moves right along, looking over his shoulder at where his coat was left earlier and quirking an eyebrow; a scrap of paper drifts out of his pocket and floats over for him to pluck it out of the air.]
I— or perhaps more accurately, our dear friend Agnes— had an idea. Look.
[Read this and come to the immediate obvious conclusion he did, dear.]