Aziraphale had spent the last several minutes sitting on the edge of the bed in puzzled wonder. He distinctly remembered crawling into bed with one of his beloved treasures, a certain extremely rare Bible as a matter of fact, that just happened to have a few minor additions he was able to take full credit for. He remembered putting The Book on the nightstand as his eyes got heavy, so it wouldn't be damamged. Next thing he knew, he woke up. At least he thought he had. Pinching himself did nothing to change what he saw.
He was no longer in his beloved book store. Worse, none of his books were with him. As he could think of no logical explanation, he decided his best option was to find out where exactly he was. Then he could find out how he got here and why, if there was a why. Logical.
He had already determined he was in some sort of hotel room, and a very nice one, he had to admit to himself. If he was in a hotel, there would have to be a front desk. He would simply make his way there and at least determine his location. Maybe they would have a breakfast room on the way. Just a thought. Aziraphale might not know much about what was going on, but it was easier to think on a happy stomach.
He conjured up a bathrobe before heading to the door. Aziraphale didn't like to do such things for his own personal gain, but this was a unique situation and he thought he could cut himself a little slack this one time. Throwing the plaid robe on over the blue cotton pajamas he normally wore (they reminded him of the sky Up There), he grabbed the key card from the dresser. Tucking it in the pocket of the robe (a pocket that may or may not have been there a moment ago), he opened the door and stepped out.