This is too specific for a Renfaire. If he's gone somewhere medieval, they'd better at least have basic medicine. Or printing presses.

The sunglasses might help her with the eye contact. But overall Crowley's probably doing nothing for poor Xion's nerves, scowling to himself, wondering just what would get him stranded like this anyway. Some thermodynamic fallout from the time-stopping? It was just that one time. And the other time, and sometimes as a small cheat when-

She's still talking to him. He frowns as he recalls her last question, glancing down unhappily at the DeLorean. "Not this one. 'Least I don't think so. They're just very clever machines, meant to take you places quickly." A beat. "Stupid question, but what year is it?"