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“Come along then. I think we could both do with a change of scenery. Yes, I’m sure some refreshment is just what we need to put everything into perspective.”
Crowley scowled as he followed Aziraphale into the coffee shop. “Somehow I don’t think a bit of liquid energy is going to help solve anything.”
Aziraphale rounded on him so suddenly that he almost bumped into him. “Crowley, you are not having your usual monstrosity of a drink”
“And why not?”
“Because—you—you’ve—” Aziraphale’s hands fluttered in several aborted gestures. “It’s not good for you!”
“It’s what I always have! And it helps me think.”
“Well this isn’t ‘always,’ is it? It’s—not good for you. I read that it wasn’t.”
Crowley rolled his eyes as he shoved past the angel to claim an empty table. “They only decided that recently.”
Aziraphale sniffed as he sat down opposite. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Afternoon gentlemen,” the shop owner interrupted them before Crowley could retort. “Am I right in thinking some congratulations are in order?”
Crowley opened his mouth, then shut it again when no response came out. A quick glance at Aziraphale showed he wasn’t gong to be any help, currently doing his best impression of a deer in headlights.
“The last time two people had an argument like that in my shop, one of them had just found out they were expecting,” she continued. “Word of advice? You don’t want everyone to know, then tone down on the public arguments.”
Crowley groaned and dropped his head to the table, trying to hide behind his arms.
“Herb tea, then? We have a mocha java that does a pretty good coffee impersonation.”
He made a noise that she probably took as affirmative.
“And how about you, Mr. Fell? Your usual Darjeeling?”
“Yes, thank you, Nina. That would be lovely. And whatever pastry is freshest.”
As she headed back to the counter Crowley considered sinking into the floor. But that would be far too close to being pulled down by Hell, so it seemed he was stuck with the mortification.
Across the table Aziraphale tittered.
“It’sss not funny,” Crowley grumbled.
“It is a little funny.”
Crowley replied with a rude gesture. Which only made Aziraphale laugh harder.
By now Crowley was in danger of having a few chuckled slip out himself. Aziraphale’s laugh had that effect on him. He raised his head enough to rest his face in his hands.
“I s’pose people are going to find out anyway.”
“Eventually. Though if we want to control how and when then perhaps a bit more discretion would be prudent.”
“Aren’t people going to—I mean, I’m still—” He lifted a hand to gesture as his current male appearance.
Aziraphale scoffed. “My dear boy, this is Soho. It would take more than that to scandalize my neighbors. And everyone else can—mind their own business.”
Crowley finally looked up, an impossibly fond smile tugging at the edge of his lips at the protectiveness. “And you’d make sure they did, would you?”
“I most certainly would.”
Nina came back then with their order, setting down the teas and Aziraphale’s scones. “Here we are gents; and this is for you.”
Crowley raised an eyebrow at the chocolate tart she set down in front of him.
“On the house.” She winked at him. “And congratulations. To you both.”