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“Crowley,” said Aziraphale, hands on hips, “we need to talk about this latest scheme of yours. You’ve gone too far this time.”
“What?” Crowley would have blinked if not for the fact that he never blinked. “I’ve nothing to do with the war in—”
“Not that.” The angel rolled his eyes. “I’m not a fool, Crowley, I know that isn’t your style at all.”
“What are you talking about, then?” He seemed genuinely bewildered. “I haven’t been up to anything much lately. Just letting the humans come up with their own evil and putting it on my report.”
“I mean,” said Aziraphale sternly, “this whole ‘Christmas in July’ business. It’s entirely the wrong time of year and it makes no sense. As if there isn’t more than enough Christmas in December already; leave July alone. Really, I know you enjoy causing mischief, and that’s fine within reason, but this has gotten out of hand—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Crowley interrupted, staring. “You think Christmas in July is my fault?”
Aziraphale did blink. “Isn’t it?”
“No!” Crowley looked offended. “C’mon, I’m not that evil. Besides, would be pretty stupid of me. All that mistletoe people put up makes me itch.”
“Oh.” Aziraphale frowned. “I suppose that didn’t occur to me. Though it wouldn’t be the first time one of your schemes backfired…”
“Hey!” Crowley elbowed him. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you don’t. Anyway—”
“I thought the July Christmas trend was you,” Crowley interrupted. “Peace and good will and cheer and all, seems like a your side kind of thing, no?”
“Certainly not,” Aziraphale huffed. “All the consumerism, not to mention those who don’t celebrate Christmas are left out and half those who do celebrate get annoyed because it’s out of season.” He snorted. “I don’t think even Gabriel would approve, with all the gross matter involved. And for once I agree with him.”
“Fair enough.” Crowley shrugged. “So, it was neither of us… just the humans, then?”
“Apparently so. I apologize for blaming you.”
“Ditto.” Crowley held out a hand. “What do you say we spend the evening at the bookshop? No out-of-season Christmas to bother us there, no demon repellent. Only the good kinds of gross matter.”
Aziraphale laughed. “Are you inviting yourself over?”
“Yes,” Crowley said, unrepentantly. “Do you accept the invitation?”
Aziraphale smiled, and took his hand. “I do believe I do. Come along, my dear.”