[Risky is putting it mildly. Crowley presses close again and Aziraphale welcomes it, holding him too tightly for post-coital cuddling but not nearly tight enough to protect him from what they are definitely, surely about to do.]

Technically, getting into a fight in Hell would be the right thing to do, if I were to be discovered. Viewed through a certain lens, that is.

[Ah, but they'll be in so much trouble if they're caught, simply being discorporated and properly executed would pale in comparison.]

Still, I could pretend to be you for an hour or so. I know you. I'm sure I'll do a very good you.