The tone informed Emma that this wasn't figuratively speaking; he wasn't calling her an angel in the way that she was just a really nice person. There was that hint of accusation again and Emma's eyes widened at the fact he'd made that leap instead of the more likely 'witch' one.
"What? Angel? No," her head shook fervently, because it was one thing being the saviour, but an angel was just a little too much. "I'm not an angel." She directed it between Dean and Lisa, trying to make sure they both understood it. "I just have magic, and it's good magic, so I can help, okay? No angelness. None."
She was still running on the adrenaline, giddiness and joy of having done something substantial with her magic, Emma figured that showing it wasn't some kind of angelic thing might help. Putting her thoughts to the pants in the back storage of the station, where a few of the spares that she'd collected were, Emma summoned them to her open hand.
"See? Just magic." And she never thought she'd been calling it just anything.