"Then why are you hiding shit in here, Aziraphale," demanded Crowley, "if no one but you and I ever come in? You could put it in the middle of the floor and feel secure that no one else will see it. Or are you afraid that John, Ellie, and Gabriel are going to run off and tell Ur..." he choked on the name, "...what you got for her? No, I think you're hiding it from me. And if you tell me that I'm being silly or ridiculous one more time, I can't vouch for what I'll do." His hands were clenched in angry fists by his sides as he waited for an acceptable answer. Crowley wanted one, really. He'd have accepted nearly anything, so desperate was he for it to not be true, but the angel hadn't offered any explanations; had only tried to distract him.