"Hey, angel... You can let go of the seat, y'know." Crowley gestures to the surrounding countryside. "I'm not going to hit anyone."

Aziraphale glares, and there's a twinkle in the demon's eyes as he adds, "Toe your line and play their game, let the anaesthetic cover it all..." And Aziraphale closes his eyes with a light flush, and his fingers only tighten, because he sings beautifully. He sings like an angel...

Except the lyrics are ridiculous; an angel would never sing lyrics like that. And it's hard to imagine Crowley singing anything other than Queen, these days, so that's okay.

AN: This story is dedicated to The Mad TeaParty, even though I'm sure she'll never read it, because, yes, I do still have your Queen CD, nervous grin.