He registered the cough about the same time Crowley did, judging from the sudden stillness of the demon. The angel's eyes flew open - ohdearohdearohdear - and stared horrified into Crowley's, before they sprang - yes, that was the word - apart, frantically straightening and rearranging mussed hair, smoothing clothing.

Slowly, Aziraphale's blond head turned to look at Adam, and his three followers. "Oh." He noted Lupin, distantly, and the bald Loki and the robed Uriel.

"Hello," he added, when no one said anything. Adam's question sunk in. "No, no, no, it's not a bad time at all, do go ahead. Crowley and I were just- just- Er. What did you want to discuss, dear boy?"