The suggestion of a beach has the angel's expression light up excitedly. "Oh, I love the sound of that. We haven't been to a beach in ages." He can already imagine the warm sun on their skin and the salt tang of the air. Just them on a blanket with nothing but the sand, ocean, and sky to keep them company.

He pouts when Crowley puts a pre-emptive ban on a tartan blanket. "Who's going to see if it's just us?" He scratches gently at Crowley's scalp while his other hand ghosts over the demon's ribs in a hint of a tickle. "Besides, it'll match the lining of the picnic basket."