[Five minutes is long enough for Aziraphale to worry that he typed the wrong thing. Perhaps Crowley wasn't being serious at all, and he had somehow overstepped the invisible line of appropriate banter. Since the Armageddon that Wasn't, the angel had become far more relaxed around Crowley, but perhaps these sorts of conversations should only be held after several bottles of wine, and not in the cold sobriety of text.
(Also, if he knew that Crowley was texting and driving, he'd give him a real earful over it, but thankfully he is none the wiser.)
By the time Crowley's text arrives, he's in a bit of a dither over it.]
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Date: 2020-03-09 12:59 am (UTC)(Also, if he knew that Crowley was texting and driving, he'd give him a real earful over it, but thankfully he is none the wiser.)
By the time Crowley's text arrives, he's in a bit of a dither over it.]
Should you ask what?