Work Text:
"Something smells...evil," Sandalphon says, sniffing the air.
Aziraphale momentarily panics, trying to remember where he and Crowley most recently had a meeting of the minds (and mouths) that he forgot to miracle clean. Near the computer? No, that was weeks ago. On the desk? Last spring. On the floor next to the sofa? There are still scorch marks underneath the rug, but it's been at least two years. Ah yes, he thinks, last week we were--
"Oh, that'll be the Jeffrey Archer books, I'm afraid," he says, and makes a mental note to be more thorough in the future.