Ineffable

Lake Geneva

"I like having you here in the mornings," Aziraphale commented. He was stretched out on his side, propped up on one elbow, stroking Crowley's face affectionately in the grimy light of London that filtered through the blinds. The room was filled with the familiar scent of lavender and lemon balm.

Crowley felt unable to move. The warmth was soporific, irresistible. "I've got to get going," he groaned. "I'm due at the Koch Brothers convention in Geneva today. I'm the keynote speaker."

"We have a few minutes." Aziraphale bent to kiss him, his lips warm, perfect. But after a little while, Crowley pulled away and stared out the window at the leaden January day. "I.... don't really want to go to this thing," he confessed.

"Why not?"

"Come with me, Angel." He pulled Aziraphale over, until he was lying on top of him.

"Come with you?"

"Sure," said Crowley. "Why not? You can be my date."

"Your date?"

"My plus one, if you like. No one needs to know anything if you feel shy."

"I thought it was a bunch of conservatives."

"It is. But even among ultra evil right wing power brokers it's not cool to be homophobic. Your side won that battle. You should go enjoy the fruits of your labor. It's a very nice hotel," he added, knowing Aziraphale's weakness for good hotels.

"Is it?"

"Yes. Five star. Overlooking Lake Geneva. It's fantastic actually," said Crowley, stroking Aziraphale's thigh.

"I see.'' Crowley could tell the angel was intrigued.

"The chef there is supposed to be marvelous," Crowley added in his best tempter's voice.

"Is he?"

"He was written up in Epicurean Magazine just last month."

"Why do you want me there?"

"Erm..." Crowley squirmed under the angel's penetrating gaze. The truth was, the Koch Brothers made him nervous. They were evil on a greater scale than he was comfortable with.

"These people are .... Bad," he said at last.

"Bad?" said Aziraphale, cocking an eyebrow. "Isn't that your wheelhouse?"

"Really, really bad. Deeply evil. It scares me actually. I could use a little bit of goodness. For the balance. Things are shifting Aziraphale, and these people are part of it. If we're going to resist, well, we have to stick together."

"You really think it's getting that serious?"

"I do."

"Well, I can't ."

"Why not?"

"I've got a world cycling symposium."

"World cycling symposium?"

"Fighting global warming by promoting cycling. You know."

Crowley shook his head. "Come with me. You can go to your world cycling thingy next year. I promise you global warming isn't going away any time soon."

Aziraphale sighed. "That's probably true." Crowley tried to nibble his ear, but Aziraphale brushed him away. "I always assumed you were responsible," said the angel with a disapproving glare.

"For what? Global warming?"

Aziraphale nodded.

"No, no," Crowley replied. "I can't take credit for that. Well, actually, I do take credit for it. All the time. It's earned me some real accolades at the home office, I tell you. But just between you, me and the wall, the humans managed to come with that all on their own."