Crowley feels a wave of fondness that only grows, as Aziraphale bustles straight past the implication he's doing anything forbidden or unangelic, and straight to lecturing and gentle boasting. "Oh of course not, you'd never get carried away and forget to be careful. The very thought."

He had squared with his desire to do for Aziraphale, to give to him and protect him, a long time ago. But the tensions had heightened so much, as Armageddon grew closer, and the angel's identity as an angel was so much more present that...well. He hadn't expected this. The Bentley was important, yes, but Aziraphale offering ranked right up there with the possibility of getting her back. Maybe even higher.

He takes in the red and black robes for the first time. (And the bow tie. He's not sure where Aziraphale got the bow tie, but it's ridiculous.) The fondness is reaching critical mass. It's the kind where violins start playing in the background.

"Suppose I should be grateful Ka's where they've put me too, since they've gone and stolen my color scheme," Crowley says airily, like he's not just said something very interesting. "I'm not really the robes type. Reminds me too much of monks. Think they'd let me turn it into a posh jacket, or something?"