Aziraphale has been quite distracted what with all the punching and rolling about going on, a hideously complicated soup of emotions and grotesque bodily reactions that he can't even begin to deal with - like his 6,000 year old manner of dealing with things, his whole angelic consciousness, has just been spirited away, astrally projected elsewhere, leaving him only distantly aware of his blushing and lip-biting and stammering and little murmured gasps at all that violence and... masculine aggression. His ears feel hot; his palms are sweating. He rubs them self-consciously on his trousers. Any moment now he's going to intervene and break this fight up. Any moment now.
The elephant is a surprise. Embarrassingly so. Just how wrapped up in this was he, to not notice an entire elephant approaching? If he'd been remotely more level-headed he might have remembered that elephants are often deceptively sneaky. But as it is, he is overwhelmedly concerned with Crowley having been commandeered. He snaps into action, coming right up to the elephant, which is not an elephant at all.
"Daine!" he cries, startled and alarmed. They're all behaving abnormally; is she on some sort of elephantine rampage? "Put him down! It - it's all right! He's my demon!"
This comes out abruptly almost on top of Spike's accusation, only reinforcing Crowley as his demon. Ugh, the idea! Aziraphale chews his lip in immense, adolescent consternation and says petulantly, absurdly, "You control him!" He reaches a hand up, as though forgetting for a moment that he could very easily miracle Crowley right back down if he wanted to. "Daine, please?"
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The elephant is a surprise. Embarrassingly so. Just how wrapped up in this was he, to not notice an entire elephant approaching? If he'd been remotely more level-headed he might have remembered that elephants are often deceptively sneaky. But as it is, he is overwhelmedly concerned with Crowley having been commandeered. He snaps into action, coming right up to the elephant, which is not an elephant at all.
"Daine!" he cries, startled and alarmed. They're all behaving abnormally; is she on some sort of elephantine rampage? "Put him down! It - it's all right! He's my demon!"
This comes out abruptly almost on top of Spike's accusation, only reinforcing Crowley as his demon. Ugh, the idea! Aziraphale chews his lip in immense, adolescent consternation and says petulantly, absurdly, "You control him!" He reaches a hand up, as though forgetting for a moment that he could very easily miracle Crowley right back down if he wanted to. "Daine, please?"