A/N: A silly drabble for a wonderful Crowley.

Faith

The rain pelted down on the angel as he sat watching the flickering fire in the distance, vaguely hoping nobody else would come along and question that strange glow and where it came from. It was bad enough that the serpent had seen what he'd done, but he didn't even want to contemplate what Gabriel would do if he found out(1).

Silence had reigned for some time now, though whether it was minutes or hours was uncertain as clocks hadn't been invented yet. Aziraphale was quite sure he should have found his company a bit less interesting and comfortable; with a soft sigh, he resigned it to being just another thing to add to the alarmingly stacking guilt. Crawly, for that had been how he introduced himself, seemed to be plagued by much the same thoughts, even if he expressed them in a different manner than Aziraphale would have done.

"Bugger."

He looked over at the angel and then back to the campfire through the drizzle, wondering why he was still sitting with the other. It would get them both into trouble, yet he couldn't deny there was something personable about the other, as though he might not be a bad companion to share a few bottles of wine with(2).

"I don't see why they weren't allowed the fruit anyway."

Aziraphale opened his mouth to give the arguement he was sure was valid and true, but he couldn't find it. It did seem a little unfair, if he was honest, planting that tree right where anyone could get the fruit and then making a rule not to touch it. If you didn't want anyone eating the apples, why plant the tree in the first place? Swallowing these traitorous thoughts, he shrugged vaguely.

"It must be part of the Ineffable Plan."

"Bloody stupid Plan, if all it can think to make rules about it whether to enjoy a nice apple or not."

In Crawly's opinion, the Ineffable Plan should be more concerned with faith as a whole, or whether a species of animal made it into creation or not. The dietary habits of two human beings shouldn't really matter in the grand scheme of things; and anyway, surely it was better to be knowledgeable than ignorant?

"It's what the apple represented." Aziraphale raised a finger, feeling a little more on solid ground now. "Faith instead of solid fact, and a trust that He had their best interests at heart."

Silence.

More contemplative silence.

Crawly snorted, shaking his head. "Then why was I told to go in and wreak a bit of havoc? How do you know the Plan isn't just so He can sit back and watch a nice bit of drama unfold?"(3)

An uncomfortable frown crossed Aziraphale's angelic countenance, and he offered the only answer he could think of... which was lame even to his own ears, something he would be teased about in millennia to come when they had both had too much to drink and were getting nostalgic.

"Have a little faith."

1. No doubt it would involve several hours of paperwork, and a lecture in an extremely boring monotone about fraternizing with the enemy.

2. Neither bottles nor wine had been invented yet, but the thought still occurred to Crawly. He was just that sure of it.

3. A sentiment repeated almost word-for-word when Crowley was attempting to incite the creation of Reality TV. Something he received seven commendations for.