"Alec!" His voice was hushed and he looked around hurriedly for the Librarian. "Be careful. You'll damage the binding." Somewhere just past the windowed doors, a fire burned and the smoke was not bad, it looked to be well on the way to going out, but he could smell it. Someone had lit garbage on fire. "What did you do?? Oh, for the love of-- You can pick locks."

He'd seen it done, no use denying it.

It couldn't be past midnight already, so that meant Lamassu--that (to borrow a popular American term) narc--had gone ahead and ratted him out to Alec (of course), who had undoubtedly brought Crowley in tow with him. Oh, could he not just do a quest peacefully?

While Alec got all the blame and frowns, Aziraphale turned a warm, thankful, smitten smile to Crowley "Hello, my dear," then grumpily snatched back the book from Alec, smoothed a hand over it, and reshelved it.

He stood, dusting off his trousers. "I have work to do. You'll have to be quiet. And mind your step. Some of these shelves are a bit slippery and it's a little high up. I'm not sure what we're looking for," he added with an excited whisper, practically wiggling with joy, "but it's all very adventurous. Like something from those, ah, Indiana Jones movies." There was a mystery and he intended to solve it.

"Shh. She's coming back through."