Aziraphale was more than a little perturbed, for similar reasons to Cayce's, but with roughly five thousand nine hundred and seventy more years of Crowley's acquaintance to fuel his worry. He hadn't seen much of his counterpart since that evening, and what he had seen involved a lot more smiling, distracted behavior and pleasant moods than had ever been usual, and an aura whose colors had changed...subtly, but in distinct and significant ways.

He wanted to be happy for Crowley, truly he did. It was just that after all this time of certain things remaining absolutely consistent, any unexpected and unexplained change in that quarter was not entirely to be trusted.

Unfortunately, it wasn't his business to interfere in Crowley's love life, if he had finally chosen to have one. So instead the angel was venting his anxiety today by means of a great deal of totally unnecessary cleaning and rearranging around the tea shop.

"Oh, hello, my dear," he said, smiling at Cayce as she approached. "It's good to see you again. How have you been? Can I get you something?" As he spoke, he was absently wiping down an already sparkling-clean teapot for the third time that day. At this rate nothing in the place would have any finish left on it...