Balthazar glared at the TV screen as if it had personally insulted him. Given what show was playing on the TV at the moment, it probably had.

"Balthy, I told you to stop watching that crap!" Crowley called from the crime scene known as their kitchen.

"It's utter rubbish! These girls literally make me want to kill myself before I reach old age and have to depend on them for my care!" Balthazar snapped back. He had started the evening helping Crowley in the kitchen. And he tried, he really did. But when it started to look like Crowley was interrogating the dead chicken for information instead of actually prepping it to be cooked, he retreated to the living room. A tiny bit of channel chasing revealed that his absolute favorite TV show was on.

"I hardly think girls that naïve could make their way through college," Crowley replied, ignoring Balthazar's tone. "After all, they don't even know the basics of safe sex."

"Because the American education system is more prude than a nun in a gay strip club!" Balthazar hissed as yet another teenage girl cried about how parenthood was a lot harder than she realized. "I would bet a year's salary that most of these girls weren't even taught anything other than abstinence in their health classes! Look at what a swell job abstinence-only education does!"

"Seriously." Crowley's voice was louder than before, signaling his appearance at the archway between the kitchen and living room. "Stop. Watching. Some vapid teenager is going to get you even more worked up than you already are and it's going to ruin our date night. Don't make me lock out the channel."

Balthazar gave the TV screen one final glare before doing as Crowley said, changing the station to the History Channel. A man with wild hair babbling about aliens appeared on the screen and Balthazar turned his head to give Crowley a look asking 'Are you happy now?'. The look was acknowledged with an eye roll, the shorter man returning to the kitchen.

"Bite me!" Balthazar yelled at the disappearing back, frowning at the chuckle he got in return, and let out a heavy sigh as he tried to focus on what the wild-haired man was saying. He zoned out somewhere around the importance of gold. Balthazar would admit that 'ancient astronauts' was an interesting concept and would usually watch this show with mild enthusiasm, but the younger generation had simply irritated him too much for him to maintain any focus. He snapped back to reality when a glass of red wine suddenly appeared in his line of sight.

"Dinner's done. Now come on." Crowley rose an eyebrow at him in amusement, lips quirked in a smirk. Balthazar had to have been zoned out for quite some time if Crowley was amused by it.

"Ok. Did you get the information you wanted from the chicken or did you have to move on to questioning the potatoes?" Balthazar quipped as he took the offered glass of wine, hiding his own amused smile behind a sip as the expression on Crowley's face immediately morphed into one of irritation.

"There is nothing wrong with my cooking."

"I never said that. Your food is quite delicious. I am merely making an observation on your methods."

"Keep talking like that and you'll be the next one being 'interrogated'." Crowley warned. The warning lost most of its heat when his previous amusement began to leak back onto his face, prompting Balthazar to push even further.

"Promises, promises. I know how to pick the lock on your handcuffs, remember?"

"All the more reason to use rope." Crowley shot back without hesitation, clearly having expected the comment. Rolling his eyes, Balthazar finally stood up so he was face-to-face with Crowley.

"Promises..." Balthazar repeated in an airy tone before stepping around Crowley and strolling into the kitchen.