"Oh no, I don't step up. I'm rather not the sort, you know? I'm not strong, I have no leg to stand on - one push and that's it. I'm down. I'm not very -- I never learned to hold my own. In that sense." Aziraphale explained as he chattered away, a little anxious and uneasy, checking over his shoulder because no, sadly, this was not the first time he'd been harassed and followed by those lads. "I hope to get by with my usual tactic of running, hiding and avoiding."

Hiding was his preference. He'd hide anywhere he could fit to get away from those brutes. He also got very good at hiding when at home - no one ever thought to check the garden shed.

As he walked beside Crowley, he continued to eye him up, just trying to work out what he could say to him that would keep him close until he had somewhere safe to hide. "I do appreciate your style, by the by. I always did like the whole gothic thing. Well, gothic literature. Not sure if that counts but I am fond. Of that. I don't know much about the rest--" He waved his hand dismissively to signify the rest. "The, you know, ... satan worship and the music."