Surprised at Gabriel's thoughtfulness in evaporating the remains of his broken plumage, Crowley curled one bald wing to look balefully at it. They'll grow back, he told himself. It'll take a year or so and itch like hell, but they will grow back the same as before. I'll be able to fly again someday...

Catching sight of the archangel's carefully blank expression, the demon snarled and snapped his wings back in more forcefully than was probably advisable. He didn't know what thoughts Gabriel was hiding from him but he was certain he wouldn't like them. Crowley rotated his right shoulder a couple of times, feeling that everything was correct and stood.

"Gabriel..." he began stiffly, without any idea of what to say next. Demons don't say thank you.