“…they haven’t decided. To be a man or not.”

"...makes sense, I guess."

Incorporeal spirits. It's not like they're really men or women, any more than they really have cute blond ponytails.

"Do you always pick one and stick with it?"

He shakes his head.

“Lot of times they find one they like better. But some of them switch off a lot. And some of them just…don’t work like that. Or want to be a sunflower or something.”

"Checks out. How come those kinds don't show up in the Bible?"

“…what do you mean?”

"All the angels in the Bible are dudes! Definitely no sunflowers."

“Can’t tell you anything about what’s going on with angels,” he says, making a face.

"Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities."

He makes another, different face.

“…I guess I could ask about it, if you really want to know.”

"...ask who?"

“Valentine. Or someone. Who was an angel.”

"......huh?"

Do demons reproduce. Demons aren't supposed to reproduce. This is a moral catastrophe of staggering magnitude.

“…I was a human. A while ago.”

He’s avoiding looking her in the eye, and he’s a little pink.

"Humans don't turn into demons," she contradicts, back on firm footing.

“I know that,” he protests, now fully red.

"...then ... oh. Oh."

"...hey! You let me undress in front of you!"

“—why does that make a difference!”

"Demons don't count! They don't even have, like -- bodies or sexes or sexuality or anything!"

“…demons definitely have sexuality,” he says, not sure where to start on addressing the first two.

"...whatever for?"

Blink.

“What?”

"...it's not like they can make little baby demons!"

“…I don’t know why they like sex. They just do.”

"...are you sure they actually like it?"