Gabe, Solomon was interested to note, was spluttering on top of the blushing. But he was also looking thoughtful. Odd, how angels could apparently feel different emotions without being actively conflicted.

"There was, wasn't there?" the Archangel said. "'Cept for the part where it was comin' up on night-time and we were tryin' to avoid the nurses from turnin' into monsters when night fell, it was real romantic."

"I don't think hasty dinners under the threat of mindless killing-machines counts as a dinner-date," Solomon observed. "Especially not when you were both mental patients at the time. What would your doctor have thought?"

Someone was snorting laughter. Solomon couldn't quite tell who it was, and it didn't really matter. Solomon went on anyway. "There weren't even flowers, were there? Not even a single measly carnation? For shame. And you do owe me a cane, Skulduggery, because of that time you tried to kill me. I'm making it official."