Crowley grit his teeth as he stepped on the accelerator of his Bentley - it really was his prized possession, that damned car - and watched as the speedometer climbed from 90 to 100 to 110. He could practically hear Aziraphale's frantic whining coming from the empty passenger seat; "For Heaven's sake, you can't go 100 in a neighbourhood like this!" But that's where Aziraphale was wrong, because Crowley could. And he would, because he wouldn't get caught doing it.

Killer Queen blasted in the car around him, and he absentmindedly hummed along to it - he was rather off-key, Aziraphale would tell him, but he was trying, for Lucifer's sake. Not that it mattered, of course.

The combination of his music and the scenery around him must have served to distract him greatly, because he didn't notice the cyclist crossing the road until he collided with them with a loud thud. He hissed a myriad of curses under his breath as he slammed on the brakes and stopped the car, opening the door and sauntering over to them.

He flicked his wrist in the direction of the person's arm, effectively popping the broken bone back into place, and crouched down next to them with a sheepish grin.

"Ah, hi. Are you alright?"