Main fanfic page
Aziraphale paused right in the middle of throwing a crust. The ducks, deprived, gave him a glare. "Er?"
"Sparrows." Crowley waved at the examples clustering around the litter bin, which had mysteriously tipped over shortly after he'd arrived in the park. "Hasn't He got anything better to do?"
"Weren't we going to go have lunch?" Aziraphale said, rather desperately. Ever since what they had taken to calling The Incident, Crowley insisted on bringing up all the unanswerable questions and dwelling on them until Aziraphale felt something uncomfortably close to doubt scratching at the back of his mind, trying to get in.
"I mean, you'd think that a small dirty bird that eats bits of stale scones could bloody well fall down on its own without anyone at all paying attention, much less Him."
"I've been meaning to tell you," Aziraphale began, preparatory to telling Crowley that he'd noticed a small scratch on the Bentley, only to realize just in time that he'd been about to lie. And Crowley wasn't even trying
to tempt him.
"And if he's managing every last thing, then what's all this free will business, anyway?"
There really weren't many things that could shut Crowley up when he was on a tear. Aziraphale felt very pleased with himself for finding one.