Buffy, yelling for Angels, open to anyone else who wants to be there.
Dead mother. Nifty bit of information for a human such as herself to have handed out. Uriel, being an angel, may have been among some of the most expressive, but even he didn't flinch when Buffy made that statement. He didn't often interact with humans; he hadn't done so for hundreds of years prior to being ordered down onto the earth, but talk of death never appeared to be quite pleasant with them. They clung to life desperately, rarely wishing to pass onto the next world. Uriel found that it was very difficult for him to express any sympathy for a race of beings that were so afraid of such a thing, just as he found it fairly difficult to enjoy their presence stinking up one of God's fairest creations just because it was decided that the planet needed to be inhabited.
"There is no equivalent of God," Uriel informed her sharply, looking past her to examine the building that he knew Alastair was contained within. Now that he had an idea, he could sense the demon. And he wasn't happy. That brought on a smile. Alastair had no idea as to how much of a pawn he was. He thought that he mattered when, really, he was being used.
It was hilarious.
"So? How'd you do it?" Uriel focused his attention back onto the tiny human. "How did you manage to bring Uriel down?" It was a curious thing indeed.