Apparently the bar was a popular location these days, as Aziraphale had decided to finally leave off the demonic texts in favour of drinking away the headache he'd gotten from them, only to find that Duncan fellow walking in not far ahead of him.

About to turn around - Aziraphale felt awkward around people (who weren't Crowley or Baraq) when drinking, and anyway if the bar was crowded he didn't want to be an inconvenience, and most importantly Duncan seemed to be worried Aziraphale was going to break in two (how sweet, if a bit insulting, the poor dear) - when he heard Duncan demand if Gabriel was threatening Joe.

Oh dear. Not that Gabriel couldn't take care of himself, but Duncan seemed to be a bit on the violent side and it seemed best to help calm everyone down.

He walked over and peered into the bar. Gabriel had assured Duncan he meant no violence, and Aziraphale decided to work off that. He tutted and strode forward. "Gabriel my dear, you oughtn't have your wings out while they're in such a state," he said fondly, "When was the last time you preened them?"

He knew well enough by now that Gabriel wouldn't let him preen them, but still, best to make it sound like wings were normal things as opposed to signs of warfare.