goodtobebad | open post;

[ Wow that's uncalled-for! Crowley tries to glare at him but it's difficult when Aziraphale just broke out the my love like a weapon! ]

Don't... don't my love me! I told you not to sweet-talk my plants!

[ Aziraphale can be oblivious sometimes, incredibly stubborn in others, but he's also not an actual idiot. Usually, looks work, but sometimes he needs to resort to words.

Really, this is all Crowley's influence on him. Clearly. Obviously.

He sips his tea, really playing up that angelic innocence.]

I was merely checking for spots.

Yeah, and you were telling them how pretty they look in the morning sunlight or something, don't try to deny it!

[ Of course, part of the reason why he took Aziraphale out of the room is because he knows, inevitably, that he will cave on this. He'll let the angel do his nice cop routine, but the plants can't know how quickly he'll give in. ]

[ The angel sips his tea, like that's a good way to pretend innocence.

He frowns for a moment, but then, in one of his very posh, very Aziraphale, very you-are-technically-right-and-we've-spoken-about-this-before-and-I-said-I-wouldn't-but ways: ]

Well, they do.

[ He shifts slightly and practically mutters into his tea.]

You've done great work with them.

Yes, well...

[ Huff. He's crumbling. ]

You can't tell them that! They'll start to get ideas!

[ He's not sulking. Of course he isn't. ]

I was simply complimenting them on their part!

[ Well. Okay. The thing he said he wouldn't do.

Can you blame him, though?

Probably. ]

[ Crowley rolls his eyes skyward. Angel, please. ]

I can't just have them start to think they're fine the way they are, you know.

Why not?

[ Like Crowley hasn't explained it at least three times before, if not more.]

They work very hard, and they look magnificent.

Because if they start to get complacent, they'll start to grow spots.

[ And then they will be flawed, and look - Crowley isn't projecting in the slightest. ]

[ Not at all, who would ever get that idea?]

Spots are natural, it's not their fault.

My dear, I hardly think some compliments will ruin your garden.

Imperfection is completely their own fault.

[ Crowley huffs darkly. He has no real arguments in the face of Aziraphale's logic, of course, because - well. ]

[ He eyes the demon for a moment, curiously. But perhaps still putting too much of a fuss to truly notice something.]

All creatures are not perfect.

Besides, they can be helped, if it comes to it.

They know what's expected of them. I don't see any reason why they should have a second chance.

[ That... might be hitting close to home. After all, he never had a second chance. Will never have one. ]

A second chance at what exactly?

[ Granted they have had this conversation before, and Aziraphale has had to agree, more than once, to leave Crowley's plants to his own choice of management, but it's just within the angels nature to be irritantly good natured. Well, if you don't count the passive aggressive way he does so.]

...To... to grow better!

[ He waves a hand vaguely. ]

To live up to their full potential, or some rot.

I think they'd be quite content with just some water and some sunlight.

[ Okay, yes, he's very much meddling. But he tries to tone down into something sounding more calm.]

I don't quite understand why it has to be this way. [ Clearly.]

Because it's the way I want it.

[ He's seriously just pouting now, unable to come up with a better reasoning. No one's ever questioned him on this - obviously, no one has ever been allowed so far into his life to even be aware of his plants.

He suddenly feels very exposed. ]

Isn't that how you're supposed to motivate things? They know where they stand, they know what's expected of them and what will happen if they don't meet expectations.

[ Okay, this... This is getting to a point that Aziraphale finds a bit disconcerting. All creatures are creatures, including plants, and maybe he's digging his nose somewhere he shouldn't, but this is a bit much.

He gives Crowley a look.]

And, what? Just-- get tossed aside if they make a mistake?

[ Or if they try to step out of the norm?

Is there a different between an honest mistake and a purposeful one? ]

Well, yes.

[ He looks a little uncomfortable, then sighs. ]

I don't destroy them, you know. I. Give them to other people.

[ People who will love and care for them despite their imperfections, because in the end, that's perhaps what he's always wanted for himself. Not to go back to Heaven. To find something else. ]

[ Maybe one day he'll find it. If he hasn't.

Aziraphale blinks, pausing, maybe starting to feel a bit silly about this.

However, it's not the first time even he's assumed Crowley was capable of doing worse than he really does. ]

You... Do?

...Yeah.

But don't tell them that.

I mean, if they knew, they'd all grow spots and then I'd have none left. If they knew - that being imperfect would mean they'd wind up happier than ever.

[ Did... he just say that aloud? ]

[ He certainly said something that causes Aziraphale to pause and be entirely too unsure of how to proceed.]

... My dear? [ More of a question than a call.

He heard that, Crowley. He's been trying to do a better job at listening.]

What?

[ He shrugs, and waves a vague hand. ]

Look, if you really want to play good cop... fine. But it's on you if they start falling short.

[ He's still looking at him with questioning concern.]

Will you... Still give them away?

Or you can have them, if you want them so much.

[ He smiles faintly then. ]

It’s a little poetic, you have to admit. You, taking in the cast-offs and loving them.

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oh my good crowley, you whipped sonuvabitch

y e s

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