The guitars and trumpets effectively drowned out any indications that might have told Barnaby that something was off.
"...You don't even play piano, Oh, but you part the waters."
The silly grin on his face -- it was really impossible to listen to Cake and not have one -- when he turned to hand the microphone back to Aziraphale faltered.
As a rule, Barnaby felt the same way about emotional displays as he did about muggings: They probably happened all the time and were very distressing, and he preferred to avoid them whenever possible and considered them a dreadful imposition. But there was really only one thing that could be done.
"Er," he said, reaching out to pat Aziraphale's shoulder (though he might as well have been about to poke a landmine with a stick, from the look on his face), "There, there...?"
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"...You don't even play piano,
Oh, but you part the waters."
The silly grin on his face -- it was really impossible to listen to Cake and not have one -- when he turned to hand the microphone back to Aziraphale faltered.
As a rule, Barnaby felt the same way about emotional displays as he did about muggings: They probably happened all the time and were very distressing, and he preferred to avoid them whenever possible and considered them a dreadful imposition. But there was really only one thing that could be done.
"Er," he said, reaching out to pat Aziraphale's shoulder (though he might as well have been about to poke a landmine with a stick, from the look on his face), "There, there...?"