"Well, I had to keep you from running off," Gabriel told him with a flippant wave. It was more flippant than he was currently feeling; he scanned the street, still frowning. "I'm a lover, not a smiter. Well, not often, anyway. Having a brother run away on me is just not going to happen."

He turned in the direction Aziraphale was pointing, tapping his chin. "Could be. I seem to remember passing by a library once." Not that he'd actually entered it. He wasn't desperate enough for information to subject himself to hours of dust research.