"Really, my dear," Aziraphale said, but he didn't say it with much conviction.

"Just a bit of harmlessss fun, angel." Crawly wound his tail around a branch and wished that snakes had eyelids, as this entire exercise would be quite a lot easier if he could close one eye and aim properly. "Could you shift that apple to the side, perhaps?"

The angel looked at him reprovingly, but leaned closer and complied. Crawly pulled back on the branch and then released it, and the soft fruit went sailing through the air and hit one of the Cherubim on the hip. The tiny angel gave an outraged squeak and fell down into the soft grass of the Garden.

Crawly sniggered. "I was aiming for its head, but oh well."

Aziraphale, who looked as though he was attempting to disguise himself as a new and exciting type of shrub, bit his lip in a valiant effort not to smile. "I'm sure we can get in trouble for this."

"You can get in trouble," Crawly said airily, distracted in his search for more low-hanging branches by the sudden discovery of an ideal patch of sunlight. He was still getting the hang of being cold-blooded. "I'm just doing my job. But don't pretend they don't piss you off as badly as they do me. Bobbing around like cheerful oversized insects."

"Hmm." Aziraphale reached out and absently picked up a fallen apple, weighing it in his hand. He was careful not to meet Crawly's eyes, but the demon gave a pleased hiss that might just have been laughter.

"Go on, angel."

"Tempter," Aziraphale said, staring at the apple.

But he threw it anyway.