Date: 2020-03-11 05:53 pm (UTC)
inlovewithmycar: (very drunk)
Of course it was Sandalphon - oily prick.

[ Crowley tries for a dismissive and offhand sort of tone, but couldn't quite disguise the air of genuine resentment. He was never going to let what happened to Sodom and Gomorrah go. ]

Why not just ask to speak privately? You know, like normal people do? I come in and do that all the time. Not exactly hard. Bet they stood out like a pair of sore thumbs.

[ The squeeze to his knee prompts Crowley to rub Aziraphale's shoulder. It's less a massage, more of a comforting gesture - you poor thing, having to put up with such incompetence, let me take care of you. ]
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