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[questionablewit]

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[duckshaveears]

[That expression is a definite improvement, and Crowley grins.]

Not nearly as big as it'll be after a few good caricaturists have a go at sketching him. We'll need some extra large paper for that.

[confoundthemighty]

God, no. And you know if he had his way he'd have himself drawn in some hideously expensive suit that makes him look like what he does for a living is embezzlement.

[Aziraphale can just picture it--one of those outfits that's too fashionable and too clean-cut for trust to adhere to, a disturbingly immaculate haircut. But Crowley's words do make him imagine it as a caricature, the sort of thing where he looks as much of a prick as he acts, and he can't help laughing.]

[duckshaveears]

He already looks like that, the colossal wanker.

[Gabriel is now permanently numero uno on Crowley's shit list, ahead of everyone else who's ever existed, including Hastur and Torquemada. But the mental image of a caricatured Gabriel has made Aziraphale laugh, so it's been worth mentioning him. Crowley shifts his position, leans a little further up, grinning down.]

We could go traveling for a while. Find museums where I know for a fact that there's some piece of art you inadvertantly inspired and make you guess which one it is.

[confoundthemighty]

[Now there's a thought. Traveling together, instead of just running into one another in some part of the world. And, even better, coming home together afterwards. He absolutely beams up at Crowley, the entire room brightening along with him.]

You know, I think I'd like that. If we made a sort of game of it, maybe. Where would you take me first?

[duckshaveears]

Rome.

[It's said with such quickness and certainty that it catches Crowley by surprise too; he hadn't actually thought about it, but the answer was there, waiting for him. He looks thoughtful for a second, then shrugs, smiles a little.]

First place you ever invited me for a meal. Feels like...a lot of things started there, yeah? I'd like to go back. With you.