#also everyone should go play breach: the archangel job so I have people to talk about it with

[haledamage]

OC Interview: Liv Ramsey

a slightly more different interview with Liv XD @captainofthefallen​ open tagged and I didn’t need any much encouragement, so here you go. Gonna put most of it under a cut because it got really long. 

I want to do this with Kira, too, but I couldn’t decide which romance route, and since some of the answers would obviously be different depending, I decided not to. (if someone wants to reply to this and tell me which Bravo Boy you want to see Kira awkwardly pretend she isn’t attracted to, I’ll do this for her as well :))

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same  I was gonna say I’m not tagging anyone, but I’m gonna actually tag @queen-scribbles​ for one of her Wayhaven Detectives because I love them :3

1. What is your name?

“Raphael.” She grins playfully, as sharp and bright as a blade. She’s fidgeting restlessly with what looks to be a 9mm bullet. You’re unsure if it’s meant to be a threat or if she just needs something to do with her hands. “Okay, not really. I’m Liv. Olivia Ramsey. Charmed, I’m sure.”

2. Do you know why are you named that?

“I don’t know for a fact that I am named that. It’s just what they called me, and I decided to keep it.” She slips the bullet into some hidden pocket in the simple, well-tailored black suit she’s wearing and leans back, picking absently at her chipped blood-red nail polish. “As for Raphael, that’s my rank. Like a callsign, you could say. Or a nickname. I’ve got pretty attached to it in the last month or so.”

3. Are you single or taken?

She scowls. “I never liked to phrase it that way. ‘Taken,’ like I’ve been kidnapped or somethin’.” She pauses, studying your face like she’s trying to figure out how much to tell you. “But I assume you’re askin’ if I’m in a relationship, and I guess I am. Sorta. I’m pretty sure.” 

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh. “I am in love with a man who is also in love with me and that I sometimes share a bed with. That I share a lot of things with. He’s also technically my boss, and if anyone knew about it, they’d try to use me to get to him. I’d be tortured and killed and that’s if I’m lucky. So it’s, y’know, a bit complicated.”

She leans forward in her chair suddenly, all the kindness draining from her face. “This stays between us, right, sweetheart? I’m not gonna let you put Gabriel in any danger over this.” She sits back and just like that her smile is back. “And before you ask, no. I haven’t seen his face. Everyone always asks me that. It’s not safe yet. No tellin’ who else might be watching.” Her smile softens into something fond, almost sweet. “I can wait. He’s worth it.”

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“I’m a good sweet-talker. Good at gettin’ people to tell me things or makin’ ‘em listen. I prefer to do it with a smile, but,” she pauses, a shadow of something very dangerous in her pale eyes, “well, sometimes people are stubborn. I got other ways to make ‘em talk, too.”

“Besides that, I move fast, I can be real quiet when I need to… or real loud, if that’s what’s called for instead. Pretty good at patching up wounds. Less good at causing them, but hey, no one’s perfect.” She shrugs one shoulder.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

She laughs, loud and joyful and maybe a little unhinged. “Oh, I fuckin’ wish. You know what’d I’d do if I had super powers and shit?” Her laughter quiets, but she keeps chuckling. “Maybe it’s better if you don’t.”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Blue. Not much to say about it, really. Lotsa people have blue eyes.”

7. How about your hair color?

She tugs on a strand of her long hair, currently falling loosely around her shoulders and down her back. “It’s red, right now. I change it sometimes, when the mood strikes, but I like red. I think only Mouse and Gabriel know my natural hair color, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.” She taps her index finger on her thigh, thinking. "Maybe Michael knows. I dunno how much Gabriel tells him. I don't think he'd really care about somethin’ like that. Bigger fish to fry and all."

8. Have any family members?

“I mean, I’ve got the Archangels. Beyond them, no. Don’t need anyone else.”

9. Oh? How about pets? 

She brightens suddenly. “I have a kitten! Her name’s Ruby. Here, I think I have a picture.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and scrolls through it for a moment before holding it out to you. On the screen is a picture of a kitten, about three or four months old, with fluffy gray fur and curious blue eyes. It seems to be laying on what looks like a black hockey mask. “Raquel’s probably still a little pissed at me for keeping her, but… well, it did kinda save her life.”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like?

“I don’t like being shot at,” she says dryly, then she smirks. “I don’t like when people threaten my friends. If I had a dime for every time someone threatened to hurt Mouse in order to get me to talk, I could retire somewhere tropical.” She laughs to herself, one quick, amused ‘ha!’. “I’d like to see them try. He may be little, and quiet, but I don’t recommend underestimating him. It’ll be the last thing you ever do.” 

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“I’m an artist. You’ve probably seen some of my work, if you’ve ever been to Manhattan. A couple of them were even done legally.” Her smile is warm, and there’s still laughter in her eyes. “I’m a painter. I mean, when I have time. I got lots of sketchbooks I fill up when I don’t have the time to put things on canvas or concrete. I’m also a pretty good chess player.” Her smile turns a little wicked. “Ask Rook how good I am at it. I wonder if he’s still sore about losin’ to me. I don’t think Bishop’s ever gonna let him live it down.”

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs. “I have hurt people in any way you can imagine and several ways you probably can’t. I don’t like to do it… well, just between you and me, sometimes I do like it.” She straightens the light blue tie she wears. “But either way, it’s part of the job. And I'm very good at my job.”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Oh yeah. Plenty of them.” She shrugs, like she’s not bothered at all by it, but she won’t quite meet your eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, they were bad people. Probably. Most of them were, at least.” She smiles warmly at you, the tension in her expression gone like it was never there. “Don’t worry, we don’t kill innocents or civilians. Even nosy ones.”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“I dunno. Probably like a coyote or somethin’. One of those animals that can survive in almost any environment. The ones that stubbornly refuse to die.”

15. Name your worst habits?

“I run off at the mouth, especially if I’m scared or hurt or nervous. Not, like--” she pauses, as if looking for the right words “I don’t give away information or anything like that. I’m not a snitch. I just… I’m a bit of a smartass, and a bit of a flirt, and in situations where I should probably not be talking, I’m doin’ one of those instead. Michael says it’ll get me killed one day. Sometimes he says he’ll be the one to do it.” She grins. “He doesn’t mean it. He adores me. Don’t let him tell you different.”

She slouches back in her chair, crossing her legs at the knee. “Besides that, I can’t sit still worth shit and I always forget to do the dishes. Also, don’t hand me any important paperwork because I will draw on it.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“Nope. Never really had anyone to look up to. Well, maybe…” she pauses, her eyes distant. “Maybe Kaidan. Never had anyone take a chance on me before he did. He’s the reason I’m here now. The reason I’m an Archangel. He’s kinda my… mentor, in a way.” She smiles to herself. “Him and Gabriel. But I can’t exactly say I look up to Gabriel, y’know? That gets into weird territories, when you consider my relationship with him.” 

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“Are those my only choices? ‘Cause those are not the only sexual orientations out there, sweetheart. I’m pansexual.” She spreads her arms out in an inviting way. “I’m an equal opportunity gal.” 

18. Did you attend school?

“Sure. New York public schools. I even graduated. For Mouse, more than for myself. If I dropped out, he woulda done so too, and I didn’t want to drag him down with me.” She looks down, sadness in her eyes for a moment. “Guess I did anyway. Some best friend I turned out to be.” 

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I don’t really care one way or the other about marriage, but if I ever have kids they’ll be adopted. I wanna give some kid the kind of home, the kind of family, that I never got to have. Unconditional and all that shit.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Obviously.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically, then laughs. “Nah. If people know who I am, I’m not doin’ my job right, and if people are out there bein’ fans of the Archangels, then it’s Michael and Gabriel they’re swooning over, not Raphael.”

21. What are you most afraid of? 

Her face goes abruptly blank and cold. “Being abandoned. Being alone. I’ve been there before… before Mouse, before the Archangels. I’ll burn this whole fuckin’ city to the ground if that’s what it takes to keep them safe. I’m not ever going back to that. Not ever.”

22. What do you usually wear?

“Usually?” She looks down at herself. “Oh, you’re askin’ about the suit! It’s standard Archangel uniform. Black suit, blue tie, mask.” She pulls a hockey mask out of the inside pocket of her suit jacket. It’s black and has what appears to be a cascade of red roses down the right side of it. “You like it? I designed it myself.”

She puts the mask back away. “When I’m not working, I like layers. Tank tops and flannel shirts and leather jackets. Skinny jeans or leggings or skirts and tights. Dresses short enough to stop traffic. Red and pink and yellow and black. A bit of Archangel blue sometimes, too, these days.” She tugs on her light blue tie again. “Rook told me I looked like a ‘punk rock supermodel’ once. Nicest thing he’s ever said to me.”

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“Gabriel bakes the best fuckin’ cookies you will ever eat. There is a small chance I fell for those cookies before I fell for him.”

24. Am I annoying you?

She waves a dismissive hand. “Nah. I’ll take any excuse to talk about myself.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

She smiles that knife-sharp grin again and runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “So when do I get to ask you questions, sweetheart? I’ll make it worth your time.” 

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

She tilts her head to one side thoughtfully. “Y’know, I have no fuckin’ idea. I live in a pretty swanky apartment right now, but I don’t own it. I have a decent amount of money squirreled away, but most of it’s stolen. All of the above, I guess. I’m a homeless kid who lives in the penthouse suite.”

27. How many friends do you have?

She stops to think for a second. “Fourteen.” She looks surprised and clearly is counting them again in her head. “Wow. Fourteen. Huh. You know, two months ago the answer to that question was ‘one.’ Even if we’re just talking close friends, the answer’s still eight. I’m not… I got no idea what to say to that.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“I prefer cake, but I don’t mind pie either. Just don’t ask me to bake one. And if I do, I don’t recommend you eat it.”

29. Favorite drink?

“Tea with milk and sugar. Pretty sure it’s Mouse’s fault. That’s how it works, right? Blame your tea-drinking habits on your British friends.” She laughs lightly. “I’ve got too many fuckin’ British friends.”

30. What’s your favorite place?

“I like Father Murdock’s. I like the juxtaposition of it all. Church upstairs, black market downstairs. Nuns carrying AKs. It’s just ridiculous enough that it almost doesn’t seem real.” She sighs and her smile slips a little. “Favorite place used to be the Mill, but I guess we can’t go back there now. Gotta find a new base of operations.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

“Why, you hopin' you got a shot?” She looks you over slowly, a playful smirk spreading across her face. “I mean, you've already asked me if I was 'taken'. Since I am, it obviously means I'm interested in someone. Or are you asking if I'm interested in someone else?” 

She stops to really think about it. “These days, I'm surrounded by a lot of gorgeous, interesting people. People that, in a different situation, I’d probably be real interested in. But if Gabriel's in the room, the rest of the world may as well not exist. He’s magnetic. It doesn’t make sense for a man to be so goddamn attractive when the only part of him not covered is his eyes and even that’s only sometimes, but I know I’m not the only one drawn to him. I’m just the lucky one.” She chuckles, and that fond smile is back, the same one she wore last time she spoke about Gabriel. “I always thought that 'I only have eyes for you' thing was a bit sappy, but damn if it isn't true.”

32. That was a stupid question…

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” She waves it off like she’s already forgotten about it, then smirks at you again. “If you’re actually interested, though, I got a few friends I could introduce you to. We can talk about it later.”

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

“Ugh. I hate swimming. I’m not really a, uh, outdoorsy type.” She taps a fingernail against her bottom lip, thinking. “I guess a lake, if I had to choose. Less sharks and shit.”

34. What’s your type?

“You sure are askin’ a lot of questions about my love life, sweetheart. I guess it’s lucky for you that you caught me at a time I actually have one.” She chuckles and sits back in her chair, staring at the ceiling while she thinks. 

She’s quiet for a long moment, then leans forward suddenly, her pale blue eyes intense. “You know what’s the most attractive thing a person can have, regardless of gender? Competence. There is nothing sexier than someone who knows their shit and does it well. That confidence someone has when they’re really good at something and they know it.”

She sits back again, some of that intensity draining away. “I’ve never had anything specific physically that draws my attention. Lucky for Gabriel, I guess, since I was already long in love with him before I really saw any of him. He’s got real good shoulders, though, y’know? Broad. Strong. Stubborn.” She laughs at the last one.

35. Any fetishes?

“Dunno. Most of my sexual experience has been pretty vanilla so far. Might be fun to find out.”

36. Camping or outdoors?

“No thanks. I did enough sleepin’ outside when I was homeless for a few months. No way in hell I'm sleeping outside on purpose. I’d prefer a roof over my head, if it’s all the same to you.”

She waits for you to ask another question, but when you don’t she just nods. “All right, good talk. This was fun.” She stands from her chair and straightens out her suit, then offers you a hand to shake. Her handshake is strong and confident, her skin warm. “You need to find me again, go see Father Murdock. Tell Greg you’re lookin’ for Raphael. He knows how to get in touch.” She walks away, steps fast and purposeful and almost silent, and you follow her outside.

She pulls a black ski mask out of her pocket and puts it on, covering her face except for her eyes and mouth and tucking her hair underneath it, then pulls that hockey mask out again and puts it on over it. She takes out a pair of black leather gloves and pulls them on too. When she looks back at you, there’s no sign of the woman underneath except for the pale blue eyes; if you hadn’t just been talking with her, you’re not sure you’d even know she was a woman, the suit and masks erasing any signs of personality or identity.

She waves jovially. “If I were you, I’d find someplace to lay low for a little while,” she says, and even her voice is different: colder, harder, her slight New York accent gone like it had never been there. “It’s not safe around here at this time of day. All kinds of dangerous people around.”

As if on cue, a black SUV pulls up nearby. The passenger-side front window rolls down and the back door opens. Inside, there are four other people wearing the same black suit and blue tie, their faces all covered by hockey masks. There seems to be no theme or color scheme among the masks. You wonder if any of them are the Gabriel that she spoke so highly of.

“Heya, boss,” a friendly, Welsh-accented voice calls from the front passenger seat. “You get what ya needed?”

Liv doesn’t reply, instead just pulling herself smoothly into the open seat in the back next to one very large man in body armor with a shotgun in his lap and one very small man with an open laptop in his. They both nod at her as she sits down, and she puts a friendly hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. He must be Mouse, you assume.

The driver calls out to you, and he also has a Welsh accent. “Might be best to forget you ever saw us.”

“And ya best hope you never see us again,” says the front passenger. Her accent and cadence of speaking are so similar to the driver’s you’re pretty sure they’re related.

Liv nods to you once more, then closes her door. You see the large man hand her what you’re pretty sure is some type of submachine gun. The driver gives you a jaunty salute and then they drive away. 

You stare into the space where the SUV had been for a long moment. You should probably ask your boss for a raise; there’s no way you’re getting paid enough to interview Archangels.

[ineffable-snowman]

Day 15: Laughter

Read on AO3

They laughed. It was neither laughter of joy nor laughter of companionship. They laughed at him.

Aziraphale laughed, too. Not because their laughter was infectious or because he wanted to. He laughed dutifully although he did not understand why they thought him so ridiculous. What was so laughable about his idea? He did not know how to phrase the question because he did not want to give them even more reason to laugh at him.

Gabriel was quick to lecture him anyway. “Aziraphale, I’m sure this idea comes from a pure heart but, forgive me for saying so, it really proves a stupefying lack of insight into the greater good.”

“These things are bound to happen when you are out of touch with everyday divinity,” Michael said with a pitying look. “With only humans as company for centuries, it’s no wonder your perspective is a little skewed.”

“I suppose it is.” Aziraphale tried to chuckle to show that he was in on the joke. “So I take it you won’t consider my suggestion?”

Gabriel snorted and shook his head in amusement. “You certainly haven’t forgotten that Heaven does not attach value to material objects?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale exclaimed in relief. Just a misunderstanding then? “It wouldn’t necessarily have to be material objects for everyone. I thought about blessings, about healings for the sick and hurting, giving the hungry something to eat… Or just little miracles like snow on Christmas. A white Christmas really makes humans so happy.”

“Good Lord,” said Michael, “you are slobbering over this.”

Aziraphale flinched. He threw Gabriel a nervous look, hoping for validation from him.

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale, Aziraphale. Haven’t 6000 years on Earth taught you anything? Happy humans are not necessarily devotional humans.”

“As we have highlighted in our final reports every century,” Michael added. “Statistics show that miserable humans in hopeless situations are more likely to turn to Heaven. How is that news to you?”

“I-I-I know that, of course. I-I just thought it would be nice to give them at least one good day a year. So they could be happy on Christmas even if their lives are otherwise miserable. They would be so thankful, I’m sure. Wouldn’t that secure souls for us, too?”

Gabriel sighed in exaggeration. “Enough of that. You should pay more attention to your routine business instead of this wool-gathering. I hear the demon Crowley has trapped you in London in an infernal ring of fire.”

That was wild. “Er…” Aziraphale did not know how to react to that because he did not want to get Crowley into trouble. That idea must have come from one of Crowley’s embellished reports to Hell (because Aziraphale was fairly certain that he was not trapped in an infernal ring of fire…although he had not left London for quite some time). He should have warned me about that, Aziraphale thought, mildly put off because it presented him as an incompetent angel once more.

“Do you need assistance?” Gabriel asked. He sounded almost worried.

Well, better make the best of it. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I have already breached the ring of hellfire. You see, over the millennia I have become quite experienced in thwarting the demon’s wiles.” See? He was not completely useless.

“That’s good to hear.”

Then Aziraphale had a sudden flash of insight: It would not be so horrible if Crowley had really trapped him in a ring of hellfire in London. In fact, it would be very convenient this weekend because Heaven had ordered him to go to Manchester of all places to bless the launch ceremony of a little church, and the weather forecast looked grim and he really would have preferred to go to the Royal Opera House to see Hansel and Gretel. It was one of his favourite operas and the new production had gotten favourable reviews. He cleared his throat. “However, I’m still busy with extinguishing fires around London. So… I might not be able to make it to Manchester this weekend.”

“Oh, no worries there. I myself will deal with the Manchester business,” Gabriel promised. “You stay in London and focus on that hellfire.”

“Oh, thank you. That’s very gracious of you.”

“Well, it’s what we do, isn’t it?”

***

Now Aziraphale had the weekend off but he was still not over the archangels’ patronising behaviour.

“And then I suggested we – that is, all the angels – could make a collective miracle on Christmas,” he told Crowley when they had lunch in a new Korean restaurant. He needed to get a few things off his chest before he could fully enjoy his delicious starter. “How does the saying go? Peace on earth for everyone et cetera. You know how the humans have invented so many lovely Christmas traditions to spread joy but there are still so many people who are ill or hungry or poor or homeless or just don’t get any presents and feel lonely. So I thought if all the angels put in an effort we could make Christmas a happy event for everyone. A bit like those human fund-raising galas.”

Crowley gaped at him. “You – you suggested that to the archangels?”

“Yes, and can you imagine how they reacted?”

Crowley snorted. “So you – you practically proposed they should dress up as Santa and come to earth to, ha, spread festive joy?” He snorted again and then – he laughed. “Ooooh, I wish I could’ve seen their faces! Bet they loved it!”

Aziraphale huffed and put down his napkin, trying very hard not to let it show how Crowley’s reaction hurt him. “Excuse me,” he said primly, “I need to go to the restrooms.”

Crowley raised his brows because there really was no reason for a supernatural being to go to the toilet. And Aziraphale did not know what to do once he was there. He adjusted his bowtie, washed his hands and miracled away a rude doodle from a tile. He felt stupid and a little betrayed because he had thought Crowley was the only supernatural being to understand. But he had laughed at him, too. Why was it so ridiculous to want to give a bit of kindness once a year? It made Aziraphale angry and so he reached a vicious decision: He would spread joy on Christmas, no matter what the archangels or Crowley thought. Let them laugh!

When he returned to their table, their main dishes had been served but he was not hungry anymore.

“You alright?” Crowley asked without looking at him.

“I’m perfect, thank you,” Aziraphale said icily.

“Is your food not good? You can have mine, I’m not really hungry anyway.” Crowley pushed his dish towards Aziraphale.

“I’m not hungry either.” Aziraphale pushed the dish back.

“Right. How about a digestif?”

“No, thank you. I have work to do, seeing as I will have to do the seasonal blessings all on my own and with the job in Manchester… oh, and apparently I’m trapped in an infernal ring of fire, so I’ll have to sort that out, too.”

Crowley stared at him. “What? How – who?”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you told Hell you’d achieved?”

“Of course it wasn’t me, what do you take me for?”

“But you told them.”

“No! Aziraphale, whoever did this – I had no idea. This is – shit. They must’ve… fuck.” Crowley put a black credit card on the table and stood up abruptly. “I’ll deal with this. You stay away. Okay? You just go back to the – no, you better stay here or…” He frantically looked around, visibly shaken.

“Crowley, stop.” Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s arm to make him calm down. All his anger had evaporated. “There is no ring of hellfire. Well, at least I’m fairly certain there isn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I can’t be entirely sure but to me it just sounded like the archangels had, as usually, no idea what was going on.”

Crowley took a calming breath. “I hope you’re right. But I’m going to check anyway.”

“Be careful, please.”

“You know me, angel, I’m always careful,” said the demon who had once walked into a church and directed bombs onto it.

***

There was no ring of hellfire. A misunderstanding, as Crowley found out once he contacted Hell to make an enquiry. Apparently, the demons had not fully grasped yet how the M25 worked.

“I have no idea how that bit of information got to Heaven,” Crowley said, “but luckily you can rely on angels being daft idiots.”

Ah, yes. There it was again. Crowley had always made it clear that he thought angels spineless, empty-headed creatures. And he had laughed at Aziraphale’s plan like the archangels had done, too. A plan even too stupid for the daft idiot archangels.

“Don’t look like that,” Crowley said. “I obviously didn’t mean you.”

Aziraphale sniffed. “Well. You obviously thought my… Christmas plan was stupid.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. You laughed.”

“Oh, come on. I wasn’t laughing at you. It was just that it was so funny to imagine the reaction of the other angels.”

“They thought it funny, too.”

“You can’t have seriously thought they would ever…” Crowley grimaced. “You did.”

“Why is it so ridiculous to expect angels to do good?” Aziraphale said in a huff.

“Because they aren’t…they aren’t good, not like you. Come on, Aziraphale, you said it yourself: They have no idea what’s going on on Earth. Why do you listen to them?”

“Just so you know, I will spread as much joy on Christmas as is in my power. And don’t even try to thwart me.”

Crowley grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You defying the archangels – that’s pretty badass.”

“They didn’t exactly forbid it.” Aziraphale considered. He was not stupid. He knew Crowley was making fun of him – not in a condescending way now, more in their usual needling each other. He also knew that Crowley still felt at least slightly remorseful. If he played his cards right… “Anyway, you could help me. Seeing as it’s something the archangels don’t exactly approve, it’s only proper for a demon to participate. Who knows, it could get you another commendation from Hell. Maybe this time even for something you actually did do.”

Crowley muttered something to himself and rolled his eyes and grimaced and then said: “Just for the record, I know what you’re trying to do here, angel – tempting me to do good deeds.”

Aziraphale tried to suppress his grin. He almost had him. It always thrilled him to tempt Crowley to be nice. “I’m sure we could work some more demonic elements in. Let’s say, I take care of getting some presents for humans who can’t afford it, and then you can wrap the presents with tons of sticky tape and tie the bows very firmly and with several knots so they will be so annoyed when they try to unwrap the presents.”

Crowley grinned toothily back. “Let’s make a deal. We do your evil Christmas plan on Friday and on Saturday we go to the cinema to watch the new James Bond film.”

“Hm.” Aziraphale could not really see what Crowley liked so much about that James Bond fellow but he would endure it for the sake of, well – the greater good or evil or whatever. For a happy human Christmas. “We can go to the cinema on Sunday. I wanted to see Hansel and Gretel at the Royal Opera House on Saturday.”

Crowley shrugged. “Fine with me. But weren’t you meant to be in Manchester on Sunday?”

“Gabriel will do that one.”

“Really? Gabriel wants to go to Manchester?”

“He, er, might be under the impression that I am busy extinguishing infernal fires in London.”

“You – what! You didn’t – you can’t – holy shit. You just sent Gabriel to do your tedious work so you could, what, enjoy a weekend off in London?”

“He offered. And I really wanted to see the premiere.”

“You are such a bastard,” Crowley said in delight.

Aziraphale knew he meant it as a compliment, but still, an angel should not strive to be called a bastard. “There’s really no need to insult me.”

Crowley snickered. “I can’t believe you did that! Ha, can you imagine Gabriel doing the shitty work in Manchester while…”

Just for the record, Aziraphale really tried to suppress his giggles but Crowley’s laughter was just too infectious.