Aziraphale was twelve and a half minutes late. Ten of that was spent fretting at his reflection in the mirror. Alone in his quarters, (thank Goodness his flatmate was away) he turned this way and that to inspect himself at every angle. He was still wearing the same clothes as usual, but he wondered whether or not it would be too much to miracle up a little change? Nothing too outrageous - he didn't want to Crowley to have a fainting spell. Maybe a flash of red somewhere? A spiffy new bow tie? Curling his hair? Oh damn it, there was also the frustration of having this different body. He scowled deeply at his younger features, unaccustomed and dissatisfied with the change. Oh, I hope Crowley won't be too put off by it, he thought.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall shocked him out of his quandary - he couldn't keep Crowley waiting, the poor demon would start to worry! "This will have to do," he told himself, leaving the room without changing anything at all. Aziraphale moved as quickly as he could, and two minutes later, he was at the greenhouse entrance. A half a minute to collect himself - tugging at the bottom hem of his coat, straightening his tie - and he walked in.
Any pretense of being calm was chucked out the window when he saw Crowley lounging in the chair, sensually sprawled, much to Aziraphale's delight. He gasped a quick breath of air, and struggled to contain his smile as his eyes twinkled with glee. "Crowley!" he exclaimed, then composing himself again, he continued, "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," then teased, "Consider it payback for making me wait so long for you."