Michael, mouth full of food, chimed in, "I am! You clearly didn't learn to cook from Gabriel." He winked at the other Archangel, hoping to help diffuse that "if you say the wrong thing I'm going to smite you" look.

Michael considered himself something of an expert at smiting demons, but even he recognized that if anything the one in danger here was the demon, not Aziraphael.

Besides, he was just here for the food.