[ He takes the glass in a daze, fingers only lightly brushing Aziraphale's in the exchange, before something, suddenly occurs to him. He fishes around in his jacket pocket and, like a magician about to unveil a particularly complex trick, he produces... ]
...A pen. As promised.
[ Not for nothing, it's a nice pen. Sleek, black, with silver filigree around the cap. But there it is. Crowley taking a dangerous leap, calling Aziraphale's bluff, if it was ever a bluff at all. ]
It can even write underwater. Should do the trick.
[ He takes a sip of the dark wine, his brow having migrated halfway up the vast expanse of his forehead as he watches for Aziraphale's reaction. Your move, angel. ]
no subject
[ He takes the glass in a daze, fingers only lightly brushing Aziraphale's in the exchange, before something, suddenly occurs to him. He fishes around in his jacket pocket and, like a magician about to unveil a particularly complex trick, he produces... ]
...A pen. As promised.
[ Not for nothing, it's a nice pen. Sleek, black, with silver filigree around the cap. But there it is. Crowley taking a dangerous leap, calling Aziraphale's bluff, if it was ever a bluff at all. ]
It can even write underwater. Should do the trick.
[ He takes a sip of the dark wine, his brow having migrated halfway up the vast expanse of his forehead as he watches for Aziraphale's reaction. Your move, angel. ]