Squinting out at the storm, Aziraphale didn't register Balthazar's words at first. Instead, he was torn between marveling at the strength of the wind - even being trapped in it, it was magnificent - and hoping it would end soon. The air was close in here, and the sound of the wind echoed off the stone walls.

When he did realize what Balthazar had said, he turned to the man quickly, schooling his expression into one just slightly more pleasant than neutral. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and it was mostly true.