Crowley took a seat in the chair before him, relaxed back against it and gave a very uncharacteristic sigh. Then he followed that sigh with another drink from the glass of wine. “Actually,” he said, “I can't.”
Which really, he couldn't. There wasn't any viable explanation to offer the angel other than the fact that they'd simply been plucked from where they had been and stuck here. Crowley, thankfully, with his car and flat, and Aziraphale with his book shop. Also, it appeared that the City wanted each to know the other was there or it wouldn't have enabled Crowley to find him. It did things like that.
“And of what I do know, you'll never believe me.”Another drink. Crowley was of the mind that getting drunk wasn't a bad idea. An idea Aziraphale seemed to support since he'd grabbed more wine before they'd even finished one bottle.
There was a long pause where it was obvious the demon wanted to say something, but couldn't quite find the words to say it, when he finally just shrugged as if to say 'what the hell' and said what was on his mind. “The City is alive.”