1988 A.D., July 2

Crowley and Aziraphale went to the Ritz all the time. They hadn't admitted it, but they genuinely enjoyed each others company. (Honestly, there wasn't anybody else in the whole multi-verse they'd rather spend time with.)

But at the moment, Aziraphale was busy miracling people away from a deadly car to care.

"Crowley, you can't just drive 70 miles in London! You'll hit someone!" Aziraphale had said it many times to Crowley, and he'll say it again; it was illegal, and it was dangerous.

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Nobody's gonna notice one death."

Aziraphale shreiked, "CROWLEY!"

Crowley cringed at Aziraphale's yell.

Crowley made a sour face, I'm careful."

That was a blatant lie.

"The day you hit someone with your car is the day I'm not going to be able to stop it.*" Aziraphale said.

Criwley nodded, "Sure, sure."

The drive went on with the two bickering like an old married couple.**

*Actually, Aziraphale would've been able to stop it if he weren't too busy eyeing Crowley in the front seat.

**Well, they would be in the future.