I've got it under control!

Aziraphale, trying hard not to look at what he was doing, tipped the contents of the box of Roses into a bowl by the front door. As he gazed forlornly at the brightly-coloured wrappers, his mind waged an internal war. Really, the chocolates were for the trick-or-treaters, said one side. Although, countered the other (the one that sounded remarkably like Crowley), one could hardly hurt, could it?

Caving with distressing speed, the angel reached out for the bowl. After a minute or two of rummaging, however, a frown creased his brow, and he poked his head back into the small living-room.

'Crowley?' The demon's head appeared, resting on one of the arms of the sofa. Aziraphale rather hoped that his feet weren't on the cushions. 'Crowley, did you eat all the strawberry creams?'

'Yep.'

'...Yep?'

'Yep.' Crowley grinned unrepentantly, his hand coming into view. One of the elusive strawberry creams was being held between two long fingers, and the demon bit into it, cracking one side open. Aziraphale watched, mouth forming a small 'o' as Crowley's tongue - oh dear - as Crowley's forked tongue darted out to lick the sweet filling from inside.

The angel was distracted from decidedly unangelic thoughts by the sound of Crowley's voice. He hadn't heard what the demon had said, but when he looked up, Crowley had stretched out his arm, fingers offering him a strawberry cream, already unwrapped. As Aziraphale moved to take it, his hand brushed the demon's. He wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to, but he said it anyway.

'Yes.'

Crowley grinned.