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As he passed through the lush, plant filled room a tiny movement caught his eye. Stopping dead in his tracks, Crowley whipped off his sunglasses and leaned in closer.
He growled, a snarl twisting his lips. Behind him, the plants began to shake silently.
Mealybugs. His plants had been infested with Mealybugs. And he knew who was responsible.
A pained expression crossed his face. He knew it. He knew this plant was going to be trouble. But Aziraphale had been so pleased to give it to him. He sighed deeply, raising an eyebrow as he considered the trouble maker. He carefully folded his sunglasses and tucked them into his coat's breast pocket.
"Well." A deep, soul weary sigh as he began to slowly pace in front of the infested plant.
"Well, well, well."
"The others will have told you that I don't stand for shit like this. No brown spots. No mildew. No. Fucking. BUGS." His voice suddenly booming out as he stalked over and went nose to... well... leaf with the plant.
It just sat there. Unperturbed.
Crowley took a step back, narrowing his eyes at the plant. Any other he would have quickly and mercilessly done away with. But as he considered it, suddenly Aziraphale's face loomed large in his mind. The angel's mouth forming a soft, sad "oh" of disappointment upon learning of the plant's demise.
"Dammit," he swore softly. Snatching the plant up he stalked to the kitchen and unceremoniously dropped it on the counter. Settling down in front of it he began to, gently and methodically, pull all the small fluffy bugs off the offending plant.
"Don't you dare say a word." he muttered angrily as the plant continued to sit there quietly.