Aziraphale closed his eyes as he sampled the last morsel of his food, reveling in the symphony of divine flavors that assaulted his palate. All too soon the flavor faded and he was brought back to reality, but still much too late to realize that Crowley had practically been staring at him, a pensive look on his face. He politely wiped away the last traces of food from his lips.

"That was scrumptious," he said as he set his napkin aside. Finally he looked up at Crowley expectantly, suspecting nothing out of the ordinary as he asked, "So, what are you in the mood for now?"

"Alcohol," Crowley responded at once with a mischievous smile. He slapped his spoon against the rim of a nearby glass, sending a piercing ring into the air before continuing, "Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol."

Aziraphale smiled and nodded wordlessly in agreement. Crowley grinned triumphantly back.

Some time later they were walking down the street when Aziraphale thought to mention, "I have several very nice bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the back. I picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and there's still some left for special occasions."

Most bookshops in Soho had back rooms so it was nothing unusual for Aziraphale's dingy old bookshop to be the same. Contrary to what most dingy Soho bookshop back rooms were probably like, however, Aziraphale's was significantly more elegantly furnished to cater to special occasions. Truthfully, these special occasions with Crowley were the only ones he ever really cared about.

"Not very big on wine in Heaven, are they though?" Crowley spoke up, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Not going to get any more nice little Châteauneuf-du-Papes in Heaven, or single malt scotch, or little...little froufrou cocktails with umbrellas."

Aziraphale stepped out into the road and Crowley waved a dismissive hand at an angry driver who watched them slowly cross.

"Crowley, I've told you, I'm not helping you. I'm not interested. This is purely social," Aziraphale insisted stubbornly. They stepped up to the entrance of his bookshop and he added, "I am an angel. You are a demon. We're hereditary enemies."

Crowley just stared at him blankly, not believing him for a single second. At least, not believing that he believed the words for a single second.

"Get thee behind me, foul fiend!" Aziraphale said boorishly. Then with a smile he pulled the door open and added sweetly, "After you."

Crowley smirked as he led the way inside. The shop hadn't changed at all since he was last there, he noted, though it would have been much more noteworthy if something had changed. He made his way comfortably to the back room with Aziraphale following close behind.

"Just a moment," the angel said as he took the lead. After some rummaging he produced a few bottles of wine and some glasses to match. "Here they are. A fine, earthy wine, aged to perfection."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Wine, or alcohol in general, was one of the many things that most angels and demons agreed was a waste of time and should be left to humans. Crowley and Aziraphale, as usual, were the primary exceptions to this rule. They had both spent the better part of six thousand years studying the evolution of human-made alcohol in various parts of the world and while it did tend to improve over the years, the outcome was always much the same. The thing about modern-day alcohol, and wine especially, was that it just happened to have a little more science about it that made it a good deal more fun to drink than early Egyptian vintages.

A few hours later, however, the two of them hardly cared what they were drinking anymore.

"So, what...what exactly is your point?" Aziraphale asked confusedly as he took a sip from his glass. He hardly tasted the wine as it passed between his lips. He had nearly forgotten his own question the moment he asked it.

"My point is-" Crowley was interrupted as a burp came unbidden out of his mouth, "my point is...dolphins. That's m' point. Big brains! The size of...damn big brains. Not t' mention the whales. Brain city, whales. Whole damn sea full a brains."

"Kraken," Aziraphale interjected, lost in thought. "Ooh, great, big bugger. Supposed to rise up to the surface, right...right up, at the end. When the sea boils."

"Well that's m' point!" Crowley exclaimed, remembering suddenly why he was there in the first place. "Whole sea bubbling? The dolphins, the whales, everything turning into bouillab–... bouill-bouillab..."

Aziraphale tried to help, "Bouillab..." after a second he figured it was harder to say than he had originally thought. He quickly lost interest and tried to refill his wine glass, with little success.

"Fish stew," Crowley simplified. "Anyway, it's not their fault. And that's the same with gorillas. They say, like, "Whoop", n' they say a lot of...sky's gone red! There's...stars crashin' down n' what are they puttin' in bananas these days!?"

Aziraphale frowned. He rather liked all the animals of the Earth. "They're all creatures, great and small," he said mournfully as he hugged his glass to his chest and stared off into the distance.

Crowley got a devilish gleam in his eyes as he added, "And ya know what's worse? When it's all over, you've got to deal with eternitaaaaaaaay!"

"Eternity?" Aziraphale asked as he sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"Yeah," Crowley said with a shrug as he continued with the plot he had been working toward all day. "It won't be so bad at first. Although, no Stephen Sondheim first night's in eternity, I'm afraid. Although, I have heard rumours that your boss really loves "The Sound of Music". You fancy spending eternity watching that? You could literally climb every mountain over and over and over and over and over and over and over."

"I don't like it any more than you do, but I told you I can't diso—not do what I'm told," Aziraphale explained sadly. "I'm an angel. I...oh, God, I can't cope with this while I'm drunk. I'm going to sober up."

"Yeah, me too," Crowley agreed. He was content that he had done enough to at least get the angel interested in his plans.

They both winced at the uncomfortable sensation as the alcohol slowly drained out of their systems. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly an unpleasant experience that left a gross taste in their mouths. Crowley stuck his tongue out and his lip curled in disgust at the weird feeling, though it was over soon enough.

"Even if I wanted to help, I couldn't" Aziraphale was saying by the time the demon came to his senses. "I can't interfere with the Divine Plan."

Crowley had a comeback waiting in his back pocket. "What about diabolical plans? You can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the Divine Plan too." He could tell he had the angel's attention and persevered, "I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren't you?"

"Well..."

"See a wile, ya thwart. Am I right?" Crowley said.

"I...broadly...actually, I encourage humans to do the actual-"

Crowley interrupted, "But the Antichrist has been born. But it's the upbringing that's important, the influences. The evil influences, that's all going to be me. It'd be too bad if someone made sure that I failed."

There was a long pause, then Aziraphale's eyes lit up as he considered what Crowley had said. He answered, "If you put it that way...Heaven couldn't actually object if I was thwarting you."

"No," Crowley said with a honeyed voice. "Be a real feather in your wing."

Aziraphale looked at him for a long moment, those burning yellow eyes staring straight back expectantly. Crowley slightly teetered on his seat. Any other person might have looked into those demon eyes and, if they didn't run screaming in the other direction, would have spat in his face right then and there for having the gall to ask such a vile thing.

But the angel hesitated. He saw something more in that expression that any other person would have certainly missed. There was a kind of desperation there, the slightest hint of melancholy...or maybe it was hopelessness in those amber irises. Whatever it was, Aziraphale was convinced that he couldn't say no to this old friend...then again, maybe that was all part of the serpent's wily acts.

For better or worse, the angel reached out a tentative hand and the demon grasped it in a firm handshake, his eyes lighting up with relief that he had finally said yes. Deep down he knew he would be able to talk him into it.

"We'd be like godfathers, sort of, overseeing his upbringing," Crowley explained in a much more relaxed tone. "We do it right, he won't be evil. Or good; he'll just be normal."

"It might work," Aziraphale said with a look of wonder and hope in his eyes. "Godfathers...well I'll be damned."

Crowley gave him a mild, crooked smile as he chuckled, "It's not that bad when you get used to it."

Aziraphale gave him a stern look then, though he wasn't truly mad.