"How ineffable, Az, that I am ill on the eve of the actual apocalypse." Crowley groaned as he wandered into Aziraphale's bookshop.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes as he leafed through a rather tattered copy of the St James' bible from behind the counter.

"Oh really, Crowley, stop being such a drama queen. It's just a little cold, that's all." He paused. "And it's not really going to happen, Crowley, else I'd been told, wouldn't I? You know, from on high." He said, gesturing towards the ceiling. Crowley sighed and fell into an armchair next to the bookcase closest to Aziraphale.

"I dunno Azzz, you see, what I reckon issss," he said, frowning to himself as he started hissing. He always did that when he was really ill, so he must be, mustn't he? He'd hissed right through the fourteenth century, if he remembered rightly. Bloody plague.

"What I reckon isss," he repeated, "is that both sssidesss are teaming together to ssstart another Apocalypssse just to get ussss back for ruining the lasssst one. It's been prophesized an all too. They've been planning thisss one for centuries, Azz. Mark my wordsss."

Aziraphale merely blinked at him, then returned to his book.

"I'm just sssaying, Angel, that we need to be ready. That'ssss my point." He stopped suddenly, and sneezed so tremendously that Aziraphale lost his page in his book.

Aziraphale sighed.

"Well, at least this time it's not dolphins."

Crowley rubbed his nose with his sleeve and glared at Aziraphale over his sunglasses.

Aziraphale put his book down and knelt down in front of Crowley.

"Okay, lets take these off for starters. It's just us here now. No-one will see."

He said softly, easing Crowley's sunglasses off his face. The demon blinked at the light, but didn't protest. His eyes were glowing a little duller than usual. Aziraphale placed a cool, pale hand on Crowley's forehead.

"You don't even have a temperature, Crowley. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and make yourself better."

"I thought you were againsssst using our powersss for personal gain, 'Zira?" Crowley mumbled.

"Yes, well, you're doing my head in. And I might get customers." Aziraphale said, sighing. Crowley nodded. There was a flash of orange light, and Crowley was sitting up straighter, his eyes a little brighter, and he gave Aziraphale a toothy grin.

"Now, go out the back, make us both a nice cup of tea, and I'll close the shop. It is Christmas, after all."

Crowley rolled his eyes and walked away.

Bloody fesssstive sssseason.