Chapter Text
The day was bright, sunny, and warm, not at all the kind of day you'd expect from the Apocalypse.
That's not to say no one thought it might be coming, because there were several conspiracy theorists who were hell-bent on it, but everyone who had a firm grasp on reality was sure it was going to be a lovely day. The two people-shaped beings who were most sure of the average innocence of the day were currently feeding ducks at St. James pond.
"You don't suppose we should be doing something else?" mused a man-shaped being in a ridiculous tartan sweater.
His companion, dressed far more elegantly in a black suit and ever-present sunglasses, shrugged in a way that suggested he was not really listening.
"Nah." Crowley, the Tempter of Man, said with another shrug. "Unless you've run out of bread."
The style-inpaired angel, known as Aziraphale, rummaged in the paper bag he brought. "Not yet."
"Good."
"We are out of wine, though." The angel said, looking at the empty bottles with an amused expression on his face.
He hadn't had a single sip.
There were three bottles. Not enough to get Crowley drunk, but still far too much.
Crowley looked over at the Aziraphale. "Miracle up some more, then. You can do that, right?"
"Haven't you had enough, dear?" Aziraphale said, raising an eyebrow.
The demon grinned crookedly, shaking his head. "No such thing, angel."
The former guardian of the east gate of Eden sighed, then used his perfectly manicured nails to throw some more rediculously expensive bread in the general direction of the ducks. "Don't you have some doubt to seed or something?"
"What's this? You, telling me to spread discord?"
Aziraphale's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Well, my job is to thwart you," He said, "I can't if you're doing nothing."
Crowley's yellow eyes peeked over his sunglasses. "I'm making your job more difficult. So, I am doing something."
Aziraphale threw the last of the bread to the ducks, who by now had moved over to a shady looking figure lurking on the other side of the pond, who was eyeing them suspiciously and trying unsuccessfully to hide from them behind a bush. He got poked several times before he realised it was a rose bush and he was in a nest of thorns from which there was no escape. After an uphill battle, he got out of the bush, walking square in a patch of poison oak, then proceeding to almost get hit by a car, which was unusual because he was several metres from the road.
Crowley smiled cheekily. "And there's that."
"Fair enough." The angel said, smiling despite himself.