Aziraphale looks at Crowley like he's grown two heads. "What? Why would I-- you expected me to think you hadn't in six thousand years?" he asks, hushed so no one can hear. In fact, miraculously there's quite a bit of buzzing, as he's noticed people starting to gossip.

"It is really absolutely none of my business who you bed, my dear, after all, you are a demon. I imagine it can't be work all the time."