Aziraphale winced. He knew, of course that Gabriel was looking after him - it did seem to be quite the trend lately, he was going to have to find some sort of younger angel to get interest off himself - but really, this was probably the worst thing that could happen.

"Ah, first of all, Gabriel, this is my, ah, associate, Mr. Anthony Crowley. Crowley, this is Gabriel, my supervisor." He gestured to both of them as he spoke of them. Then he quelled any sort of pointed response to Crowley, merely responding, "It's merely an Easter party, my dear, and as you've no doubt noticed, I'm quite safe here. Michael's fond of my cooking, after all."