Alex & Adam
Adam was surprisingly alright with being out in the world. Despite the way he'd felt from the moment he'd first gotten hour, he'd been expecting to feel some sort of reluctance in this place. He was fine with it, though, and that was sort of odd. He was blaming it on Michael, really; carrying the archangel around in his head was good for any one of a number of things.
"Glad to help," Michael said dryly, leaning against a nearby wall. "It's what I'm here for, after all.
Adam just rolled his eyes; he was used to Michael manifesting in various spots around him -- or at least seeming to, they both knew how his head was -- but responding was a bitch sometimes. It was actually a relief when the man standing nearest him said something. "Oh, trust me, I prefer this," he said with a laugh. "I grew up with white Christmases -- I'm from Minnesota."