"I promise, he was worse," Aziraphale said flatly. It was hard to put his finger on exactly why - he had certainly been annoying enough, but that wasn't all. It was something about that part of the heavenly hierarchy that was disconcerting and that had rubbed Aziraphale the wrong way long before he'd allowed himself to think too hard about free will.

He quirked his lips and drank. He didn't regret it, really; it was the one thing he'd never even thought to try. Crowley's friendship had always been enough.

"I never had children," he said hesitantly, because he was interested in how much of those stories were true.