Blessed, Crowley had to tear his gaze away then with how overjoyed that Aziraphale looked at that moment. The way his corporeal form had felt so tight on his metaphysical shape that he diverted himself from viewing it any longer. Despite the way the celestial looked, he was still the same old angel that Crowley remembered.
"Very spooky, me." He snorted with a grin.
Turning again to focus back on his friend as had seemed quite impressed with his mannerisms. Stupid angel, and of course that thought was in the most affectionate of fashions. Resting a spindly arm along the back of the chair as he once more set his chin back into his hand. Gazing at Aziraphale as he explained. "To the world," Crowley spoke beneath his breath.
"Wherever you like, angel. Why not at Tadfield?" An eyebrow perking up over the rim of his sunglasses.