Aziraphale was distracted by the shivers across the demon's back as he talked into the mirror.

"Um. Gabriel?" he asked, tearing himself into current conversation. Safer conversation. Crowley had never - and he was - Ngk.

"Michael's a bit egocentric. Honestly, after six millenia, I didn't figure you as one to go after the archangel of smiting. Fortunately, he didn't have his flaming sword. I've heard that Michael's been listening very, very carefully to Raphael lately - and Raphael hasn't been happy. I'd be a touch more careful."

He was surprisingly vocal for one who was feeling... distracted. He knew he was blushing.

"Er, well, perhaps I can do something about, ah, your injuries?" Aziraphale stepped closer to the mirror so he could see Crowley's face better.

"Here, just let me..." he fussed, taking Crowley's jaw and turning it so they were looking squarely at each other.